Left Behind
by G-ChanSanKun
Summary: Just adding to the list of cliche Hunter helps a Survivor stories: Gina discovers the group has left her for dead. She finds help, loyalty and love in the least of expected places. HunterxOC. Rated M for graphic violence/eventual smut. My summary sucks...
1. Chapter 1

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me. This story was HEAVILY influenced by _Separated_, by Leapingspirit. I highly recommend you read it; it's an amazing story. If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

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"This place is disgusting," Nick groaned, trying to wipe the sludge off of his suit. Ellis snickered, earning a disgruntled glare from the conman. All in all, the atmosphere was light-hearted as they trekked through the murky water, picking off any Infected without much trouble. It was strangely calm that night, even if they hadn't gotten very far from the safe-house they had camped out at – the building behind them was only a couple of hundred yards away. Usually there were at least a few common Infected around.

"I don't even know why you're still trying," Gina spoke up as she scanned the perimeter, "We're in a _swamp_, Nick. You can clean that suit right up 'til it looks like brand new, but it'll just get ruined again the second we leave the next safe room."

Nick indicated a steep and slippery hill and led the way as they began the perilous climb, "I spent $3,000 on this suit…"

"You ruined it the instant you sliced through a zombie with that machete you picked up back in Georgia…" Gina suddenly squeaked as she slipped, only to be caught by Ellis. She smiled gratefully as he helped her right herself.

Coach held up a hand, silencing the banter between Gina and Nick. The group slowed to a stop.

"Do you hear that?" Coach whispered just loudly enough for the others to hear. Sure enough, when they stopped to listen, they heard the telltale grunts and snorts of the last Infected they wanted to run into, especially on this particular terrain. Gina's grip instinctively tightened on Ellis's shoulders – she absolutely _hated_ running into Tanks, for there were far too many close calls than she wanted when dealing with it. Ellis comfortingly patted her shoulders before releasing her and handing her the assault rifle she had dropped when she fell.

"Great; I didn't think it could get any worse," Nick muttered sarcastically, "Anyone got a Molotov?"

"Where is it, though?" Rochelle was glancing around nervously. Gina's eyes narrowed, and she silently climbed up the slope.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Nick whispered, moving to go after her. She held up a hand, motioning for him to shut up and stay put.

As she crawled up, she noticed the noise growing louder. Cursing under her breath, she glanced down at her friends, pointing to the top of the hill and grimacing.

"So the only way to do this is to skedaddle up this here hill and pray that the feller ain't right there waitin' for us?" Ellis asked once he and the others caught to Gina. She nodded silently in response and he grinned, "Sounds like fun. I'm game."

Gina chuckled at that, averting her gaze to the top of the hill before Ellis could notice the blush creeping up her cheeks. "If we're going to get this to work, we need someone to run up and distract it, and that could allow the rest of us to get up over the hill in a separate spot, a little further away from the Tank," she said, "I think I'm the fastest here, so I can do it…"

"I'll go with you; I'm pretty fast if I do say so myself," Ellis replied, "I learned that it's never a good idea to run into a situation on your own. One time, my friend Keith and I went camping, and he ran off to go fishing without waitin' for me. Well, turns out that we were out in bear country, and Keith…"

"Ellis, sweetie, can this wait?" Rochelle spoke up, cutting his story off before he could get too far into it.

"Okay. But I think I should run up with Gina. We can cover each other's backs that way."

After a moment of thought, Gina nodded slowly, hoping that this wasn't going to turn out badly. She glanced over at Ellis as she crouched slightly, her toes sinking into the mud, "Ready?"

He nodded, and they took off, pushing up and through the muck as fast as their legs could go. Nick, Rochelle, and Coach began running as well, cutting up towards the left to put some distance between the two decoys.

Gina and Ellis were the first to get to the top of the incline. Knowing that the others weren't far behind, Gina grabbed the pipe bomb from Ellis' belt, ignoring his sudden noise of surprise and throwing it as far as she could. They heard a few shrieks as the beeping caught the attention of the common Infected in the area. The explosion made quick work of them. Additionally, it provoked the Tank, who suddenly emerged from a bunch of undergrowth.

Before he could notice her friends, Gina quickly shrieked "Over here, you loping moron!" and opened fire. Ellis was right by her side, using his combat shotgun to pump round after round into the lumbering beast.

Once Nick, Rochelle, and Coach reach the top, they too began to shoot the special Infected, who let out a bellow of rage as he picked up a large rock and hurled it at Ellis and Gina.

Gina leaped to the side, grabbing her friend and bringing him down to the ground with her. The Tank was headed towards the others, so, after scrambling to her feet, she used her Molotov to distract it so they could get to safety.

She whirled over to Ellis, who was standing up and picking up his rifle. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yea, I'm fine…" Ellis replied, quickly reloading his gun and firing.

They didn't think the Tank could get any angrier; setting him on fire was bad enough. With another roar, the Tank charged towards the duo. Behind them was the steep hill they had climbed up – there was no way they'd be able to safely outrun the Tank on that slope. Gina knew that she needed to do something; else the two of them were goners.

At the last possible instant, she used all of her strength to shove Ellis away, screaming "RUN!"

At least Ellis was out of the way. It relieved Gina to a certain degree, but unfortunately that was only half of the problem, and it was already too late. Just as she was turning to jump in the opposite direction, the Tank was upon her. The last thing she saw was his fist hurdling towards her, slamming into her with the force of a speeding car. Limply, her body careened down the steep hill, rolling and tumbling until she slammed into a large rock at the bottom of the slope where she remained unmoving.

"Gina!" Ellis cried out, and the group worked together to bring the Tank down. Nick smacked its fresh corpse with the butt-end of his rifle.

"Bastard…" he muttered.

"Guys, we need to find Gina," Ellis' voice was a bit frantic, the urgency clear, "I seen her go flyin', and it don't take a rocket scientist to figure out she's hurtin' and needs our help."

"We need to hurry up then," Nick replied, noting the sounds of what was most likely an approaching horde.

They quickly retraced their steps to the top of the slope, shining their flashlights down the hill. It was slightly difficult, but they had come across her motionless form at the very bottom of the hill.

"There she is… whoa!" Ellis moved to make his way down to her and check on her, but the incline was so slippery, he nearly plunged down the hill himself. If Coach and Nick hadn't grabbed his arms and hoisted him back up, he most certainly would have as well.

"You need to think before doing shit, you dumbass!" Nick snapped at him irritably before glancing down the hill once more, "Gina! Can you hear me! It's Nick! Move or something if you can hear me!"

No response. Ellis stared at Nick incredulously. "Nick, bro, there's gotta be more we can do. She could be really hurt down there."

"Do you really think she could have survived that?"

Rochelle glared at Nick. "Why are you assuming that she's dead? We can't tell unless we go check!"

"If you can find a safe way down that hill and back up before the horde over-runs us, I'd love to hear it!" Nick shot back, "If we weigh all of our lives against hers, we clearly win. If she really is alive, she'll figure out a way to catch up. She made that sacrifice to protect the rest of us, and it won't mean anything if we all get killed right here by a bunch of zombies!"

The young woman was staring at Nick in incredulous fury before turning to Coach, hoping to get his support in the argument, "Coach!"

The older man had a sorrowful glint in his eye as he slowly shook his head. "I hate to say it Ro," he spoke up, "But Nick is right; we need to get a move on. I'm sure she'll find us again eventually, if she really did live through that."

Coach and Nick started off. Rochelle hesitated for a brief moment before going to catch up, clearly angry with the former two. Ellis stared down the hill, an apologetic glint in his eye.

"I'm sorry, G," he said, "Just hang in there 'til you find us, alright?"

He turned and jogged after the others. And just as they had disappeared into the undergrowth, Gina began to stir.

Her eyelids felt like lead weights as she forced them to open. Her body felt like it had run through a meat tenderizer. There wasn't a sound around her whatsoever. As she came to her senses, she very quickly realized that she was alone.

She dragged herself to her feet before staggering slightly, and she just barely caught herself before she fell. Her left shoulder was screaming in pain – most likely, she had dislocated it – and her ribs were burning. She was sure just taking the hit from that Tank cracked the majority of them. Her head throbbed painfully, and she was overwhelmed by a feeling of vertigo. Vision fading in and out, she caught sight of the safe room that they had stay in the previous night. Nothing really mattered at this point other than to get herself out of the open before she became a convenient snack for an Infected. She had lost her assault rifle and both pistols as she flew down the hill. The only thing she had left was her nearly destroyed medkit.

She fought to stay awake as she wobbled back through the waist-high water, her double-vision worsening. She collapsed against the wall of the safe-house before dragging herself into the room, barely able to push the door shut. She managed to take another step forward before her legs gave out. Luckily, she had passed out before she hit the floor, so she wasn't able to feel the pain of the impact.

When she awoke, the sun had yet to rise; judging from the sounds of birds outside, it wouldn't be long before dawn broke. She had no idea how long she had been sleeping, and at first she didn't know why she had woken up. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall. The first thing she noticed was a small pile of supplies to her right; a bottle of pain pills, an adrenaline shot, and a couple rolls of bandages. Gina's brows furrowed in confusion. Where had that come from? She remembered that the group, as a whole, cleaned out the safe-house in terms of equipment and medical supplies. A glint of something metal caught her eye, and she glanced over, finding her pistols lying at her feet.

At first, Gina was relived – she had guns with which she could defend herself – and happy. The supplies meant that there was someone who knew she was here, and had gotten her thing she desperately needed. As she begun to think about, however, her emotion quickly turned towards suspicion and anxiety.

Looking around, it was clear that Nick and the others were long gone, so who was it exactly that left the items for her? They weren't there when she was sleeping, which meant that whoever it was had snuck in while she was out cold and left the items for her to grab when she woke up. So _who was it_? And why hadn't they stayed with her until she woke up?

Well, if it meant that she was being stalked, it was best to make sure she could fix herself up as much as she could. Grabbing a pipe that ran along the wall, Gina carefully rotated her dislocated shoulder, biting her free hand to fight back a shriek of pain as it eventually popped back into place. After wrapping that shoulder for added protection, she popped a few pain pills, packed the extra items and grabbed her pistols, hoisting herself to her feet.

She decided in the end to just continue to way she was originally going with her friends. The climb up the hill was excruciating and certainly tiring, but she thanked her lucky stars that the area had already been cleared out. Still, she couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes on her back as she made her way through the swamp.

The light in the sky was beginning to fade when she finally came across a safe-house, shutting the door and making herself comfortable against the near wall after placing her guns on the nearby table. She hadn't experienced much in the way of common Infected, which led her to believe that she wasn't all that far behind the others. This gave her a bit more optimism as she considered her situation.

She was making progress keeping up. Unfortunately, she was also injured; her shoulder wasn't too much of a hindrance, but her ribs and her concussion were certain going to get in the way of covering some serious ground. She only hoped that she'd catch up to them by the time she reached New Orleans.

Her name on the wall caught her eye, and Gina walked over, reading the message:

_Gina,_ it said, _I hope you're reading this message and are okay. I wanted to get you, but we couldn't reach you safely. Nick was pushing us to get outta there, and he and Coach agreed that you probably weren't alive after taking that hit from the Tank. But I __know__ that you are. There was a horde coming. Keep going the way we've been going, and you'll be fine. I pray every night that you'll catch up to us. – Ellis_

Gina's eyes welled with tears. They had assumed the worst of her condition? Did they even _try_ to check?

Her chest burned as she began to sob, but the emotions overwhelmed her and she sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands and bursting into tears. She thought the five of them shared a closer connection than that – that they would look out for each other and take care of each other. She thought she had _meant_ more to them than that.

A sudden noise caught her attention, and she froze, eyes wide in horror as she recognized the low growl. It was a _Hunter_.

How? How did he get in? Then she remembered – she had closed the door, but failed to barricade it shut with the metal pipe.

She clamped her hands over her mouth, trying to quell her hiccupping as she scooted over to a pile of sleeping bags that was conveniently huddled next to a shelf. She pressed herself against the sleeping bags, curling into a ball and fighting back a whimper of pain as her ribs screamed in protest.

She saw the Hunter round a shelf, crouched on all fours and quietly growling. It was clear he was looking for her; he was sniffing the air every now and then. Of all the times she could be separated from her weapons, this was the worst possible time!

The Hunter looked her way, and she knew that at this point, there was no hope. She was going to be ripped to shreds and eaten by a Hunter right here and she'd never see her friends again… if they could even be called that.

As the Hunter crept towards her, she tried backing away, tried to melt into the sleeping bags, shaking her head and whispering "Please…"

She inhaled sharply when the Hunter stopped, just inches from her face. He leaned forward, sniffing the length of her body, his clawed hands resting on either side of her thighs. She couldn't stop shaking. The Hunter seemed to notice this too; he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches and studying her intently. He growled lowly, backing up further, and reached into his pocket, pulling out another bottle of pills and some bandages and placing them by her feet. Gina could only stare in shock as the Hunter turned and crawled back towards the door, closing it behind him before leaping off into the night with a screech.

At first, the only thing she could do was listen to her rapid, shallow breathing, and feeling the burning in her chest before she scrambled to her feet, quickly barricading the door shut with the metal pipe. She dashed over to the table, grabbing her pistols before hurrying back over to her little hiding spot in the sleeping bags, and huddled there, desperately trying to calm her racing heart down. It would be several hours before she settled down enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

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**A/N: This plot would NOT leave me alone, especially after reading _Separated_. This story is influenced by it, but I'm working hard to make this at least somewhat original. Hopefully I'll be able to steer it off in the direction I want it to go in. I don't know what that direction is quite yet, but I plan on steering it that way. Don't judge me for having a sick obsession with the Hunter. And don't ask where it came from. I'm a very twisted individual.**

**One more thing; this particular story won't be the actual storyline of my OC (me, my sister and a couple of friends are writing storylines with created OC's in the L4D2 verse). I'll eventually write out the actual storyline. Just not right now. Hope you liked this!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me. This story was HEAVILY influenced by _Separated_, by Leapingspirit. I highly recommend you read it; it's an amazing story. If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

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When she awoke, the sun's rays were shining through the window. Her chest hurt more than anything – she had been curled up sleeping all night and refused to move in fear that the strange Hunter would return. It was excruciatingly painful to breathe. After making sure that no one had come into the safe-room without her realizing it, she slipped out of her blue jacket, lifting up her shirt and removing her bra only long enough to wrap her ribs with the bandages the Hunter had left her. As soon as she was finished, she put her bra back on, replacing the shirt, and put the jacket back on. Popping a few pain pills, she reloaded her pistols and packed the remaining medical supplies before stepping out into the morning light.

As she had expected, there wasn't much in the way of opposition. She was most certainly going in the right direction. She kept her eyes peeled; it was slightly nerve-wracking that there weren't any hordes randomly attacking her. After having hordes randomly and constantly attacking them left and right, and having Special Infected ambush them when all seemed well, she'd grown accustomed to constantly being on edge. She had the nagging feeling that the swamps were _too_ quiet; that there was something big and bad lurking around. And it didn't help that she felt like she was being watched.

The majority of the day went by uneventfully; every now and then, she'd come across a straggling common Infected, and made quick work of it. However, the feeling of eyes on her back had yet to even do so much as fade, which led her to believe that she really _was_ being followed.

The sun wasn't setting quite yet, but it was nearing the western horizon. She wasn't entirely sure how much ground she had covered, but she was pretty sure that a safe-house wasn't too far away.

As she glanced around her surroundings warily, a noise caught her attention, and she stopped in her tracks. The hysterical laughter was very easy to recognize – a Jockey was somewhere nearby. And judging from the increase in volume, it was making its way toward her.

She stepped backwards, pressing herself up against a large tree and crouching down to better hide herself, evening out her breath to try and silence the air around her even though her heart was racing. Her eyes darted around her cautiously. Special Infected were never fun to deal with, but with the exception of the Spitter and maybe the Boomer, they were impossible to take care of alone, especially if said Special Infected pinned you. The Jockey would leap onto your back, pulling you towards a horde of common Infected that would pummel you to death if no one was around to save you from its grasp.

The laughter started up again, and Gina's muscles tensed, head whipping in the direction of the sound. But at least now she knew where it was coming from. Turning more to face the origin of the sound, she quietly drew a pistol, reloading the clip. She would catch the Jockey off-guard by being ready for it when it emerged from the undergrowth. Suddenly, she heard a loud screech, followed by a pained shriek. Then, a dead silence fell over the area.

Her brows furrowed, eyes narrowing slightly. What just happened? Slowly, she crept forward; remaining crouched with her pistol at the ready. That scream just now sounded like a Hunter. Perhaps if she stayed hidden, she would be able to surprise him before it surprised her.

Of all the Special Infected, she hated dealing with the Hunter the most. They lived up to their name, the ultimate predator, and usually it was near impossible to see one coming until they were leaping at you and pinning you to the ground to rip you limb from limb. Much like a panther, the Hunter would stay hidden, creeping up and waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike, which they would. You wouldn't see them, but they would most certainly see you.

These were the thoughts running through Gina's head as she hesitated in front of the thick foliage she was about to immerse herself in. It was a catch twenty-two; she may very well be able to hide herself from the Hunter, but at the same time, it would be tricky trying to _find_ him in return, at least, before he found her. At this point, it was a 50-50 chance.

She took a deep calming breath before she started forward again, brushing aside a clump of reeds in her path. She didn't expect to suddenly find herself staring into a pair of almost glowing, gold-green eyes. In the back of her mind, they reminded her of a cat.

She gasped, startled out of her wits, and fell backwards, quickly scrambling to her feet and tearing through the swamp. _Hunter! Run away! _She needed to get to safety before it caught her and tore her to pieces.

It didn't take long at all for her lungs to begin burning. She grabbed her adrenaline shot, sticking it in her arm and injecting the liquid. The pain soon faded away, and the only thing she could hear was the thudding of her accelerated heartbeat in her ears.

A series of building came into view which appeared to be a small village. Thank goodness; there had to be a safe-house there somewhere. The effects of the adrenaline were beginning to wear off, and the pain came back with such a vengeance, it was almost blinding. She tripped on her own feet, slamming into the ground. She was wheezing now, and her head felt like it weighed a ton. Still, she scrambled clumsily to her feet, one hand wrapped around her side to clutch at her ribs. The other was gripping her pistol so tightly, the knuckles were white.

The safe-house came into view as she staggered down the dirt path, and she dashed to it, throwing herself inside and slamming the door shut. She was barely able to place the metal pipe against the door before collapsing against it, desperately trying to breathe while her heaving chest throbbed. Her head was spinning so badly, she could feel her entire body swaying, and she fell to the floor. She weakly crawled towards a corner in the room where she noticed a sleeping bag and some blankets. Unable to move any further, Gina just focused on trying to calm her breathing, and failing miserably. Her vision began to swim in and out of focus, and she knew she needed to do something, but she couldn't move, and oh God, she couldn't breathe and it hurt so much.

She didn't hear the metal pipe shift as a sleeved, clawed hand reached through the bars and moved it, and she didn't hear the door creak slightly as it opened and shut. The next thing she knew, there was a low growl near her. The sun hadn't quite set behind the mountain, so there was enough light to see the Hunter that was approaching her. Whimpering in pain, she tried to roll over so she could at least _try_ and kick him away, but she felt so dizzy and weak. There wasn't any hope for her, and since when was a Hunter smart enough to let himself into the safe-room?_!_

Her body jolted when she felt a clawed hand slide under her jacket and shirt, carefully unclasping her bra. She didn't think her hyperventilating could get any worse, but an all-new wave of panic washed over her as she re-considered the Hunter's motives.

The Hunter rolled her over on her back, and Gina weakly raised her hands in a feeble attempt to push him away, shaking her head slowly. "N-no…" she gasped out as the Hunter growled, pushing her arms out of the way, "Don't."

The Hunter unzipped her jacket, moving the lapels out of the way, and rolled up her shirt, being careful to keep the bra in place. Then, he cautiously used his claws to rip the bandages away from her ribs. As she stared on in shock and growing confusion, he grabbed a nearby blanket and draped it over her trembling form. The release of the constraining fabric on her chest lessened the pain quite a bit, and it relaxed her chest slightly. And although it was only slight, it was making a difference in her ability to breathe.

While she was too breathless to ask aloud, she knew her eyes were screaming "What are you doing_?_!" at the Special Infected, who leaned in close to her face. She briefly caught a hint of gold under his dark grey hood before he leaned passed her face, brushing his cheek with hers and nuzzling her neck. She stiffened, expecting him to rip out her throat. But then, unexpectedly, he began to purr. She could feel his rumbling against her shoulder, as if he were trying to soothe her. And, to her surprise, slowly, her body relaxed. The wheezing quieted down, and her breaths were evening out, filling her lungs with air, albeit a bit painfully.

When she felt she could use her voice again, she asked, "Aren't you going to… kill me?"

The Hunter merely nuzzled her more in response, his purring as steady as ever. It was almost comforting, in a strange way. It shouldn't have been so relaxing, but it was. He was more than capable of killing her, and she knew it. And yet, her eyelids were beginning to droop as her exhaustion caught up to her. It wasn't long before the purring and nuzzling lulled her into a deep sleep.

The next time she opened her eyes, the sun had risen and was starting to burn through the morning's fog. She sat up slowly, feeling surprisingly well-rested – more than she had in a long while. The Hunter was gone, but she noticed a roll of bandages, an adrenaline shot, and pills by her side. At this point, she knew that this Hunter was the same Hunter who had brought her supplies the first night she was on her own. Of course, that meant that he had been following her since then. The question that bothered her was, why exactly was he helping her? He had so many opportunities to kill her, and he was certainly more than able. And yet… he was the one who calmed her panic and put her to sleep. But _why_?

She was still undressed; obviously, the Hunter left her alone after she fell asleep. After re-wrapping her ribs and downing a few more pain pills, she put herself back together, packing the fresh supplies in her medkit and letting herself out.

The corpses around her were freshly shot. It was clear that she was much closer than she expected. As she walked through the village, she noticed a second safe-house. A flutter of hope sprang forth. Had the others been staying in that house? They were only several hundred yards away! She'd catch up after all, for sure! Hopefully, they didn't have too much of a head start.

As she made her way down the dirt road, she came across a plantation house. It was _massive_. And as she was approaching the door, she heard an explosion, making her jump out of her skin. But she knew that the explosion wasn't caused by Infected; Ellis and the others were on the other side of that house!

She took off, thankful that she had taken the painkillers earlier. Sprinting up the stairs, she found to her dismay that the back door had been boarded over. She glanced around wildly, trying to find another way through. She was so focused on getting to the others that she was completely oblivious to the coughing in the near distance.

Some scaffolding caught her eye – she quickly discovered that there was an open window she could climb into at the top. Running over, she didn't hesitate to climb up the ladder. She was halfway up when she finally heard the cough, and by the time she realized what it was, the Smoker's long tongue had wrapped tightly around her waist, wrenching her backwards off the ladder. Hitting the ground on her back, she was stunned, having the wind painfully knocked out of her. She thrashed, kicking out in a frantic attempt to loosen his grip long enough to free herself.

A screech pierced the air, and the next thing she knew, a Hunter had landed on top of her, pinning her to the ground. The Hunter seemed furious, as he let out an ear-piercing shriek that frightened Gina into screaming and trying to cover her ears, even if her arms were pinned at her sides. She could see a flash of gold under his hood – as if his eyes were glowing with rage. The Smoker was most likely trying to pull her away from the newcomer, as the tongue binding her grew even tighter, turning her scream into a strangled yelp. The Hunter noticed this, and he seemed to grow even angrier, crouching even lower and letting out another shriek before he sprang forward. Gina couldn't see him, but just a few seconds later, she heard the telltale "poof" noise of the Smoker exploding, and the tongue slackened around her, though it was still tangled to the point where she could barely move her hands to free herself.

Managing to pull herself up into a seated position, the first thing Gina found herself staring at was the Hunter, who was now stalking towards her. Eyes widening in fear, she began scooting backward. This Hunter could've been the same Hunter that had been following her, but she didn't know how to differentiate him from the others. Sure he may have rescued her from the Smoker, but what if that was because he merely wanted to prey on her himself?

As he raised a clawed hand, she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing herself for a world of pain. She heard a grunt, a sick slicing noise, and the tongue was suddenly falling off of her. Opening her eyes cautiously, she found that the tongue was in pieces around her.

"You… You're not going to kill me?" The Hunter growled softly as a response, possibly acknowledging her deduction. "But why are you helping me?"

He didn't answer, instead pulling her to her feet and lightly pushing her in the direction of the scaffolding.

"R-right… the others… thanks…" She ran back over, climbed up the ladder, and jumped through the window.

She dropped down through a hole in the floor after finding the doors were locked. There was a corridor leading out into a main hall with a set of stairs. She took them two at a time, noticing that the second floor seemed brighter than the first. She quickly found out why – there was an open balcony that looked out at a maze of bushes. As she quickly surveyed the scene, she caught sight of Ellis and the rest of the group. They were heading over a broken dock to what looked like a boat. It was the escape out of this hellish swamp!

_Hurry, run, go_… she needed to catch up to them, and she still had a chance at just that. It took her only a second to find the platform just to the side of the balcony, and she hastily jumped down, wincing at the pain only briefly before she was sprinting through the yard as fast as she could go. But the boat had been pulling away from the dock as she took off through the yard, and by the time she had reached the gate, the boat was too far for her to swim to it safely.

She furiously struggled through the knee-deep water, stumbling up onto the dock. Looking on despairingly, she screamed, "No! Wait… Ellis!"

The mechanic must have heard her because he turned around and waved back. But the ship was clearly not going to stop, let alone turn around for her, and it was moving far too quickly for her to even fathom catching up to it should she try to swim after it.

"Gina!" she perked as she heard his voice, and she raced over to the edge of the dock, trying to close the distance between them while she could still hear his voice.

"Please!" she shouted back, "Come back!"

"I'm sorry!" was his reply, and she noticed he was pointing to the riverside, "Follow the river! I'll see you at New Orleans!"

Helpless, she could only watch as the only way out, as well as her friends, disappeared into the murky swamp mist. And as they faded away, it felt as if a part of her chest was sucked away into a void. She was alone, once again, in a world where survival was determined by numbers.

A soft growl wrenched her back to the present, and she whirled around, pistol drawn and ready. But she relaxed slightly when she recognized the Hunter that had rescued her from the Smoker, letting out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and lowering her gun. While he wasn't completely at ease, his body language told her that he wasn't planning on attacking her anytime soon.

She gave him a small, apologetic smile. "I wasn't fast enough," she explained, wondering if the Hunter even cared or not. He clearly knew she was in a hurry when he killed the Smoker and sent her on her way. She almost felt like she let him down.

Sighing heavily, she ran a shaky hand through her hair. "They're on their way to New Orleans…" It was about that point when reality slammed into her like a ton of bricks.

She didn't even know where _she_ was; let alone where New Orleans was. Sure, the river might head right for the city, but how long would it take before she got there? And how was she supposed to catch up to a boat, especially one that was traveling as fast as that one? Furthermore, she was probably the only human alive in the southern area of the United States. She was lucky enough to be immune, but that wouldn't help her much if she was beaten to death by a horde or something.

She rubbed her eyes briefly, trying to ignore the stinging as frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. Really, as if the odds weren't stacked up high enough…

Taking a slightly shaky breath, she glanced back over at the Hunter, who had tilted his head curiously.

"Sorry," she said thickly, trying to smile while fighting back tears, "I'm trying to avoid a breakdown…"

The Hunter approached her slowly, making sure that she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Once he was by her side, he patted her shoulder a couple of times, causing her to chuckle slightly in amusement. The last person she'd expect comfort from was a Hunter. But considering said Hunter put her to sleep, it was probably best to abandon any form of expectation for the norm, what little norms there were these days. Taking a step back, she now took the opportunity to study her savior.

At passing glance, he would resemble any Hunter she had run into during her travels with the group. This Hunter in particular was wearing a dark grey hoodie with chocolate-brown pants, and he looked to be wearing a pair of indoor soccer shoes. The pant legs and sleeves were taped down with duct tape at the calf, thigh, forearm, and around the biceps. From what she could see of it, his skin wasn't deformed and covered in tumors and boils like his evil counterparts, though it was still a deathly pale. He seemed to stand up a bit straighter too, though he still had a slight hunch when he stood up, most likely from crouching all the time. That didn't prevent him from being taller than her. Gina suspected a part of it had something to do with the fact that he was male.

She couldn't really see his face; the hood kept it well-shadowed, and she wasn't about to try and find out what he looked like underneath. She had the feeling that his eye color was a green-gold, like a cat's.

The Hunter didn't seem to be affected by her scrutinizing gaze – Gina wouldn't have been surprised if he was studying her features just as intensely as she was studying his.

Deciding to break the silence, she spoke up. "Thanks again, by the way." The Hunter piqued at the sudden start in conversation, "You've helped out a ton, probably more than I know. I was just wondering though… why _have_ you been helping me?"

The Hunter took a moment to think, most likely, before he glanced at her, pointing towards himself. Gina could only stare at him in confusion, so he tried again, this time crouching low to the ground, as if preparing to pounce. The girl stiffened in response, until she noticed that he seemed to be staring at her expectantly.

"What do you want me to do…?" she asked slowly, still trying to figure out his sign language, if it could be called that. The Hunter sighed in what sounded like exasperation, standing up and pointing at her once more before crouching back down and staring at her expectantly.

"You want me to…?" she slowly crouched down until she was at his level. The Hunter nodded, pointing at her, then at himself. He repeated the gesture several more times before Gina raised an eyebrow, looking at his position on the ground, and then looking at herself. To her surprise, they were crouched in nearly identical positions.

She was actually taken aback. What in the world? She glanced back at the Hunter before looking down at herself. That had to have been a fluke, right? Why was she crouching like a Hunter?

Shaking her head to straighten out her thoughts, she asked "So, wait… you've been helping me because I'm like you?"

Grinning, he nodded, and she looked back down at herself, eyebrows furrowing. "I… don't really see it…"

She stood back up, looking out at the river and letting out a sigh. "So what _am_ I supposed to do now?" she glanced back over at the Hunter, who had, once again, tilted his head, "They're going to New Orleans. I don't even know where that is. And I don't know how I'm supposed to get there by myself."

The Hunter had stood up as well, and crossed his arms over his chest. If she could see his face, she wouldn't have been surprised if he was giving her a "look." She regarded him thoughtfully.

"Well, you _have_ been following me this whole time… when did you start?"

The Hunter thought for another moment, before placing a hand on her head, the other on her left shoulder. It didn't take long to realize he was referring to her injuries. It shouldn't have been surprising – Tanks were quite good at alerting anyone within a one mile radius of his presence, and anyone's presence he was trying to kill.

"And so you're going to keep following me?" the Hunter nodded. Thinking about it, it couldn't be too bad having a Hunter around, especially if said Hunter wasn't trying to kill her. This would be the start of the third day she was traveling on her own; if the Hunter had said it right, he had been following and taking care of her since she was separated from the others. It would be a bit difficult getting used to his presence, but she didn't feel a need to not trust him.

She smiled at him. "I think it'd be better if you followed me where I could see you. I don't want to scare myself and accidentally shoot you."

The Hunter chuckled at this, his raspy voice making it sound like a cackle more than anything. So, she continued. "You wouldn't mind just staying with me instead of stalking me in the shadows, right?"

Her new ally grinned in response, lightly punching her shoulder. That was good enough to win her over, so she gave him a thumbs-up in response.

"So, what's your name anyway?" she asked. The Hunter paused for a moment before a series of growls and snarls came from his mouth. It took all of her willpower to not snicker at his attempts to speak – she even had to cough a bit to stifle a giggle, and even then she didn't know how long she would hold out before she busted out laughing. Finally, he huffed, walking over to a tree and scratching something into the bark. Gina followed him over, looking over his shoulder. It just looked like a bunch of lines to her.

"Maybe you should try writing in bigger letters…" she suggested, thinking more about his condition. The newscasters _were_ saying that the outbreak was some sort of mutated form of Rabies. He kept his gross motor movement, that much was obvious, but since it _was_ a disease of the central nervous system, would it make sense for him to lose his finer motor skills? It explained his inability to write and speak.

"Here, I have an idea…" in the end, Gina had written out all the letters of the alphabet, and had him point to the letters in order while she spelled out his name for him.

"So, your name is Aaren?" she asked, glancing up at him to make sure she spelled it right. He nodded, humming in approval, and she grinned. "It's a different way of spelling it, but I've always liked names that were exotically spelled. I'll come up with a nickname for you eventually."

Aaren snorted in amusement as Gina stood up, brushing her knees off and smirking at him with newly-found confidence. "Shall we get going then?"

The Hunter grinned in response, abruptly grabbing her wrist and half-throwing her onto his back.

"Wait, what the hell are you doing…? OH MY GOD!" her voice trailed off into a long scream of surprise as he took off into the swamp.

She would surely get used to Aaren… eventually.

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**A/N: I believe I did a good job steering this into another direction. Hopefully it'll become more original as time goes on. I enjoyed writing this chapter, though it was frustrating when I got stuck. My wonderful mom (a professional writer) helped me out, blessed her heart. Don't ask me when the next update will be, because I've been literally losing sleep working on this. Not to mention my work schedule sucks. But I'll work hard!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me. This story was HEAVILY influenced by _Separated_, by Leapingspirit. I highly recommend you read it; it's an amazing story. **

**If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

* * *

Aaren kept an eye on Gina as the two trekked back toward the plantation house. Her rumbling stomach was quite audible; even if Gina tried to play off her earlier fainting spell as some sort of fluke, there was no way she would've gotten away with it, what with her horrendously growling abdomen.

It did kind of come out of left field. She seemed fine until he landed after the first jump, and the next thing he knew, he was supporting her kneeling form as she fought through what was most likely an excruciating hunger pain. Truthfully, he hadn't thought about her lack of a decent meal since being separated from the group whatsoever, and he was pretty sure she hadn't thought about it either.

Moving through the old mansion, it didn't take long for them to find a decent hunting knife; Gina nearly startled him out of his wits with her celebratory whoop. He glared furiously at her as she apologized profusely. He was ready to attack, thinking she was an Infected!

Soon enough, they were walking back through the maze of hedges. Gina appeared to be deep in thought. It wasn't hard to tell that she was contemplating what exactly to have for her meal. There was a bit to choose from, though she was most likely narrowing it down based on strategy.

She paused in her steps, letting out an annoyed sigh. Aaren stopped upon hearing her distressed noise, and he glanced over at her quizzically.

"I think I'm going to have to find an alligator… so, you know… if it gets me, you'll help right?"

Aaren watched her for a moment. She seemed to not want to come across as cowardly, but she also looked extremely nervous. Considering she most likely had shot down countless scores of Infected, not to mention taking on and killing Special Infected, he had no clue what she was particularly afraid of. Nevertheless, he nodded reassuringly. He had been looking out for her so far, after all. It didn't make sense to stop now just because she was searching for something to eat.

She relaxed visibly, smiling gratefully before taking the lead. Aaren followed, watching her movements carefully. In this somewhat known, safer area, she seemed to be relatively relaxed. It was a façade though. While her arms were at her sides, her hands were constantly moving, clenching into fists and relaxing, fingers splaying out and twitching slightly. She was glancing all around her being, eyes focused and watching for the slightest movement.

Her on-guard demeanor wouldn't be obvious to just anybody, but he could see the subtle tenseness. This tension grew more noticeable as they made their way to the side of the river; now, Gina's arms were raised slightly, putting up a slight, defensive barrier between her body and anything that came her way. Her movements had slowed considerably, and were much more deliberate than before. She was still looking around her, but now she was being more subtle about it, as if pretending that her guard was down when in reality, she was ready and waiting.

The Hunter couldn't help but grin as he watched her. She could deny it all she wanted, but she was so Hunter-like, if she put on the trademark hoodie, other Hunters would assume she was the same.

As Gina took a step forward, a noise caught both their attentions, and they both froze; the Hunter dropping into a crouch, and Gina dropping just as low, her knife in one hand, and one of her pistols in the other. It took a second for them to recognize the sound of something splashing or moving about in the shallower waters of the riverbank. And it was at this point that Aaren couldn't help but let out a snort of amusement. Gina whirled around to face him. At first, she looked confused at his smirk. Then, she looked down at her position, blinking and shaking her head in disbelief before glancing back up at him. 'It's a fluke,' she mouthed to him. Aaren wouldn't be having any of that, and he chuckled just to show what he thought of the situation.

Gina gave him a peculiar look, clearly bewildered as to just why he was laughing at her, before shaking her head once more and turning her attention back to the noises coming from just ahead of them. As he watched her replace her pistol, now holding her knife out at the ready, he could see that her movements had slowed yet again. Now, she was inching forward, whether from patience or fear he didn't know. Most likely, it was her instinct. Chances were the noises they had picked up on were coming from an alligator, and when on the prowl, patience was the biggest key. She was planning to do her best to catch this gator off guard.

A hiss, similar to that of a cat, erupted the instant Gina slowly pushed away a bunch of reeds – the two companions froze as they clearly recognized the warning sound of the alligator. Glancing ahead, he caught sight of it too. It was about 20 feet away, eying them furiously. It didn't appreciate them treading in its territory. Gina seemed to realize this too. She stood up straighter, slowly backing away, her eyes fixated on the gator, which looked nearly as long as she was tall and was fully facing the two of them. He watched as she backed up, stopping next to him, and idly wondered what she was about to say.

Her head tilted towards him, and she quietly spoke. "I need you to stay here and keep his attention, like a decoy."

His curiosity perked at this. Obviously, she was planning on sneaking up on the alligator. Nodding, he moved forward, placing himself just a hair further than Gina had gotten and in plain sight of the gator, which hissed at him indignantly. Behind him, he could just barely hear her footsteps as Gina slinked back and away. It seemed she was going to make a wide arch around the reptile to sneak up on it from behind. It was one of the simpler, yet highly effective hunting strategies. Sure enough, just a couple of minutes later, a figure silently emerged from the shadows of the undergrowth. It was clearly Gina, and she ventured close enough to her prey to be dangerous. And then, she stopped, holding her hands out and crouching down slightly. She was waiting for an opportune moment to pounce.

Studying her facial features, her eyes caught and held his attention fiercely. They were focused only on the gator, and there was an intensity behind her concentration that was surprising even for her. She had an aura, if it could be called that, or a vibe, that made her emotions easy to guess. And that kind of energy was smoldering under that surface, like turbulent water. It was a focus that was admirable, but Aaren quickly realized that she had a major disadvantage; with that kind of hyper-focus, she was completely oblivious to everything else around her. This would make her extremely vulnerable. A bird's cry only confirmed his thoughts as he glanced around briefly to check on his surroundings, and then found that she hadn't budged an inch. Thinking back to earlier that morning, he recalled how Gina had put forth all of her focus on getting up the scaffolding and to her friends as fast as possible. She ended up lassoed by a Smoker's tongue, and if he hadn't stepped in, she would've been a goner.

He put that as the first item on his 'list of things to teach Gina before she ended up getting herself killed.' So far, she didn't seem to have any real issues in terms of survival. She had good instincts, and most likely they had been developed from her time spent constantly battling hordes of Infected.

Just as he was wondering if she was starting to get nervous about the whole task, Gina jumped, landing square on the alligator's back, and immediately clamped her hands around the reptile's powerful jaws, knowing that its strength lied in closing its jowls and not opening them.

Naturally, the alligator began to thrash; understandably, anyone would in that situation. Valiantly, Gina held on. It appeared to Aaren, however, that for her it was a bit of a struggle. She was almost bucked off completely. Meanwhile, she was fighting to maintain a strong hold with one of her hands before she let go with the other. The alligator lurched to the side, trying to start a roll. Gina barely avoided falling over – she used her torso to compensate – and before the gator could actually succeed in throwing her off, she grabbed her knife and stabbed the back of his neck and pulled from one side to the other, severing the spinal cord. The gator twitched before it stopped moving completely.

As the Hunter watched her get up and drag the lizard over to him, she gave him an exasperated, slightly pained look.

"I look forward to getting the hell out of this swamp and coming across gas stations and convenience stores," she grumbled in between breaths. That was about the point that Aaren noticed she was wheezing. Her breathing was shallower than normal. It had to have been the fractured ribs. Of course it was. There was no way he ribs _couldn't_ have been agitated by such a task. He felt slightly bad for not taking her injury into account, though she didn't ask for his direct help. He couldn't tell if she was just being strong or stupid, but he planned on carrying her and keeping her close to better protect her once the set back out on their journey.

After much trial and error, and with help from the Hunter himself, Gina was able to get a fire started. Luckily, there were no Infected in the area, since they all had been cleared out in the frenzy earlier that morning. As Aaren watched her squat down in front of the gator, her grip on the knife changed completely. Gina held the blade, poised, above the thick, muscular tail for only a brief moment before she swiftly made an incision down the center of the tail from the base to the end. It immediately reminded him of a surgeon making the first cut in an operation. He grew curious. Why exactly was she being so neat about getting a bunch of meat?

That was when he noticed that, as she was deftly separating the skin and fat from the actual meat, she fell back to that same hyper-focus that she had when she was hunting the alligator. Aaren sighed, shaking his head. Now that just wouldn't do.

He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, letting out a startled noise, and whirled around, knife poised. When she recognized it was him – and remembered that she had a Hunter friend in the first place – she relaxed slightly. Immediately, she grew annoyed.

"What was that for?" she asked indignantly, glaring at him. In response, he gave her a knowing look, causing her anger to dissipate into confusion, and tapped one of his temples. _Think about what just happened. You'll figure it out_ was what he wanted to say. But while his voice box was more or less intact, his ability to speak wasn't. It was like he was a toddler all over again.

Nevertheless, he didn't let it show that he was displeased with his dilemma. Now sitting by the fire, he studied Gina's face. Ignoring her physical appearance, he was more concerned with seeing if she got the message.

She looked distressed. Aaren sighed to himself. She didn't understand. It looked like she was trying desperately to figure out what message he was trying to convey. But of course such an abrupt message with such obscure sign language wouldn't make much sense. Her expression turned to that of frustration. Finally, she half-heartedly returned to cutting out the meat, looking troubled and defeated.

The Hunter grew frustrated with the predicament as well. It was going to be difficult trying to tell her what she needed to know, and he could only hope that she would figure it out before she was caught off guard and killed. He wanted to be able to talk again now more than ever. And judging from the look on her face, it looked like Gina wished the exact same thing.

Aaren turned his attention back to the fire, scowling resentfully at the flickering heat while he quietly waited for Gina to finish preparing the meat.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry that this took so long to come out. The end of summer was a crazy one and now I'm back at school. Junior (really senior!) year for the win! Actually, my first day of classes was today. Maaaaaaan, if only I had made up my mind early I wouldn't be graduating a year late. And I'm sorry that this chapter isn't as long as the others. I'm hoping that the next chapter will be longer and make up for it. Please bear with me; now that I'm back at school, I'm going to be busier than ever. But I'll work hard to get another chapter out as soon as I can.**

**Reviews are not only appreciated; they are encouraged :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me**

**If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

* * *

"Aaren, hold on a sec…"

Once he landed, Gina let herself down from her perch on his back and glanced around the quiet town. Without thinking much of it, she adjusted the shoulder strap of her sniper rifle. Never in her dreams did she expect to have such a lucky find; a couple of days after starting along the dirt path leading from the mansion, the duo had come across a 2-lane highway. By that time, the sun had started to go down.

"We should find a safe house," Gina had suggested, as she warily glanced around. She had heard an answering grunt from Aaren, and they stuck to the highway with the hopes that they would find a building suitable to stay in overnight. A few miles later, they had come across a relatively sturdy and untouched house. Upon entering, they had discovered not just a house, but a home-based gun shop. She had felt like a little kid on Christmas Day.

The survivor had a wide grin on her face as she had exclaimed "Look at all of these guns! And there's enough ammo to last for weeks!"

Aaren, who had been patrolling the rooms to make sure the house was truly unoccupied, returned, and had snorted in reply, an amused smirk on his face as she quickly stocked up on ammo for her two pistols before stuffing as many medical supplies into her first aid kit as she could.

It had taken her a while to decide which weapon was the best to grab – she had preferences to several, but she hadn't wanted to slow down Aaren. At the time, and even presently, she had been thinking most about how they could cover as much ground in as little time as possible. In the end, she had grabbed a combat sniper rifle. She was a decent sniper, if she did say so herself, and had felt that, with Aaren carrying her, she could focus on picking off any Infected that tried to come at them. The little system had worked well; they remained untouched, all the while covering an unknown amount of ground.

Currently, Gina felt optimistic as she scrutinized the empty buildings around her. And as she noticed a gas station across the intersection they were standing at, she turned to Aaren.

"Maybe we could find a map in the store. We can figure out where we are and where we need to go."

The Hunter nodded, and the two of them headed over to the convenience store. Luckily, the glass doors had been smashed in, so there was no worry about having to create a commotion.

While Aaren surveyed the area, keeping an eye out for anything useful or threatening alike, Gina grabbed one of the maps, glancing through the region. To her dismay, they were in Clayton, at the northern end of Mississippi. They were closer to Memphis than they were to New Orleans. The road they had been following, U.S. Route 61, seemed to lead to Baton Rouge, and from there, Interstate 10 went straight to their destination.

The only problem was, how exactly were they supposed to cover what appeared to be at least a few hundred miles of ground, and still get to New Orleans and meet up with the others on time? Sure, riding on Aaren's back was much faster than just walking, but most likely, the boat that Ellis and her friends were on were moving even faster than that. Not just that, but unlike the duo, the boat didn't have to stop for rest at twilight – the owner of the boat, whoever that was, could continue traveling through the night, and who knew just how much more of a lead that gave the others?

Gina sighed, not feeling as hopeful. If only she still had her car – she had driven as far as Savannah before there was too much chaos to safely maneuver through the streets, and she had abandoned it not too far from the hotel where she had come across Ellis and the rest of the group. Still, she couldn't help but regret not having her trusty Forte with her. Rolling around in a steel box felt a lot safer than walking on foot.

Half-heartedly, she glanced at the various advertisements on the map, one catching her eye in particular: Dundee Auto Sales.

Eyes widening in realization, she opened the map as wide open as possible, and bent over the large paper, seeking out the word Dundee in the hopes that it was the name of a nearby town. It was easier said than done; she had no knowledge of the area whatsoever.

"Where is…" she muttered, a finger tracing the different roads that led away from the town she was in. But a sudden tap on her shoulder startled her and brought her violently back to reality. She whirled around with her hunting knife and a pistol drawn. Aaren was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest,

"Wh…" Aaren pointed to his temple, the movements rather vigorous. Gina heaved a sigh, calming her racing heart. "Just what are you trying to do?"

Aaren huffed, clearly frustrated, turned around and stalked away. "Why do you keep doing that_?_!" She called after him indignantly. That had to have been the fourth time he'd done that to her. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what he was trying to do or say. She rubbed her forehead, re-did her ponytail, and quickly set back to work, ignoring Aaren's annoyed glare as she went about searching for Dundee. As luck would have it, she eventually did find the town of Dundee, just a few miles from their current location and in the direction they were traveling. Packing the map into her kit, Gina approached Aaren.

"Walk while we talk?" The Hunter rolled his eyes, positioning himself so Gina could climb onto his back. Once he had a good handle on her legs, Gina felt the wind rush by as they continued along the road they had been following since navigating out of the swamps.

"So, while I was looking at the map, I found a car dealership not too far from here. It's on the way," Gina began to explain once he had assumed a steady pace while she picked off Infected as they passed. She heard an acknowledging grunt, and continued. "I was thinking that it would be a great idea if we took a car from the lot and drove as far south as the car could get us. Like, when the car runs out of gas, we'll continue on foot. We could cover a _ton_ of ground, and I'm sure we'd catch up to the others with no problem."

Aaren glanced at her over his shoulder. He didn't look pleased.

"Hey, don't give me that look. I've never gotten a ticket and I've never been in any accidents. Well, except for a deer I hit a couple of years ago, but it was just that _one time_."

Of course, it didn't seem to reassure the Hunter, but Gina would have none of that. She would get them a car, and damn it she would drive them as far south as she could!

It was about twenty minutes later that they had reached the town of Dundee; the whole time, she had been trying to reason with the Hunter and convince him that getting a car wouldn't be all that bad.

"Think of it this way," she said once she was back on her feet and looking around for the dealership, "You won't have to be doing all this work leaping and running and carrying me, and we'll still cover at least as much ground. Just give this a chance, please? If it doesn't work, we can go back to walking, okay?"

The Hunter let out an exasperated sigh, but other than that, he seemed to be reluctantly agreeing to her plan. She smiled gratefully at him, and continued down the road.

Two blocks later, and the duo had come across the dealership. Looking through the decently-sized lot, Gina came across a couple of hybrid cars. To her, it was like winning the lottery. There would definitely be enough gas mileage to get them all the way to New Orleans without ever having to ditch the car and walk. Unfortunately, while the doors to the cars were all unlocked, none of the keys seemed to be in the vehicles. It was annoying, though it was to be expected – the keys were probably in the dealership itself.

Walking up to the glass doors, they discovered that, surprisingly, the glass doors were intact, and there was an alarm system. It was very likely that the alarms were set, so if they tried to go in through the glass, it would most certainly set off a very loud alarm, and attract a very large horde.

"Crap," she muttered, glancing around. Surely there had to have been another way in? Slowly, she walked around the building, looking for vents and doors. There was a side, metal door, perhaps leading to some kind of storage closet, but upon trying to open it, it was locked. There were two gas can sitting next to a set of large, garage doors, and a small door, in the back, and a vent too. All of the doors were unfortunately locked, and when she herself tried to get the grating open, the covering wouldn't budge. She was certain that Aaren would have no troubles getting the grating open, but the space looked exceptionally narrow, perhaps too narrow even for her relatively slender frame. So the vent was out of the question.

"Hey Aaren," she spoke up, catching the Hunter's attention, "Can you jump up on the roof? I want to know what's up there."

Nodding, Aaren jumped away. It was only a moment before he returned. "So? What did you see?"

The Hunter paused briefly to figure out how to convey the message, before making a square-shape with his hands. Gina's eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated the meaning before guessing "A… window?"

Aaren nodded, and she went back to staring at the building again. The two of them walked around to the front of the dealership once more, Gina looking slightly disgruntled as she glanced around the area. No matter how they went about doing this, there was no way they were going to get into the building without tripping the alarm, which would definitely attract a horde. And a horde inside an enclosed space _never_ was a good thing. But there had to be some way…

"Hey…" Aaren glanced over at her, her voice catching his attention, "How long would you take to turn off the alarm?"

He raised an eyebrow, shrugging before giving her a quizzical look.

"I mean… if I covered you from out here, would you be able to get inside and take care of the alarm really quick?"

The Hunter glared at her, growling lowly. Clearly, he wasn't in favor of her implied proposal.

Ignoring her body tensing at his noise, she quickly countered, "Hey, I didn't say I was gonna stand out in the open and take them on like Rambo," she looked around, trying to find some sort of argument. A tree caught her eye.

"I can sit in that tree and pick them off while you go inside and deal with the alarm! It's a fail-proof plan!"

Aaren didn't look the slightest bit convinced. If anything, he looked even more against the idea.

"Oh come on! You and I both know that the common Infected wouldn't notice me if I climbed high enough for the leaves to hide me. And I have that sniper. I'd shoot them before they got close enough to even realize I was there. I _swear_."

In response, Aaren pointed at her, and then pointed at the building. It took her a few extra seconds to interpret that one.

"That wouldn't work. You're much faster than me. And if you were out here, you would have to be fighting hand-to-hand. That's an unnecessary risk we don't have to take."

The Hunter rolled his eyes, and Gina lost her patience. "Look, you've seen me use my sniper rifle. I can hold them off at a distance, so you can focus on turning off that alarm! If you finish before I do, you can come back out here and shred whoever you want to!"

After a moment of deliberation, Aaren, defeated, let out a resigned sigh. He still didn't look convinced, but it seemed that he was willing to do things her way. She gave him a reassuring smile. Regardless of what was going through his head, she was bent on proving that she would look out for him, and he really had nothing to worry about.

Before heading over to the tree, Gina ran around to the back of the building and grabbed the two gas cans there. After studying the branches in the tree, she placed the gas cans in the direction of the sun. She would ignite the fluid in order to cover that side, since the glare from the sunlight would get in the way of seeing what was coming.

Feeling Aaren's eyes on her, she headed over to the tree once more, adjusting the shoulder strap to her sniper rifle before jumping up and grabbing the lowest branch. Bringing one leg up to brace herself against the trunk, she wrapped the other around the branch, slowly pulling herself up and into a sitting position. She decided to climb to a slight higher branch nearby. The extra foliage around her provided a good cover. It would be ridiculously hard for the common Infected to notice her presence.

Wrapping her legs around the branch, Gina grabbed her sniper, leaning forward until she lay flat along the branch, glancing through the scope to test her view. She was satisfied with what she had, and, taking out a Molotov, sat up and turned to face the gas cans. She glanced over at Aaren, who was patiently waiting by the glass doors, and gave him a thumbs up. The Hunter nodded, proceeding to punch through the glass.

All at once, alarms went off inside the building. Without waiting another minute, Gina threw the Molotov, quickly settling back into her position lying down on the branch, and not a moment too soon; the telltale noises of the first horde was quickly approaching. She heard the glass bottle break behind her, felt the heat on her back, and she knew that it was working according to her plan.

She pressed her eye to the scope just as the first Infected came barreling around the corner. Eyes narrowing, she didn't hesitate to shoot his head. As more rounded the corner, she picked them off one by one. For the most part, none the Infected got any closer than a hundred feet from the building. Even better, no one noticed her. She suspected the blaring of the alarms drowned out the sound of her gun. And none of them seemed to even glance in her direction. She blended in just enough to avoid being noticed. She grinned; this was working out much better than she had expected.

The roar of the fire behind her gradually faded away, as did the alarms. Even when she shot a nearby propane tank as the horde got particularly thick, the explosion didn't even faze her. Everything had become a hum, and the only thing that registered in her head where the heads in her crosshairs. She liked this kind of concentration the best. As long as she maintained her focus, she wouldn't miss a thing.

Or so she thought. That was before a sudden, violent jolt to her hideout caused her to lose her balance. Her breath left her in a pained hiss as her back hit the pavement. And when she regained her bearings, the Charger that _had_ seen her and knocked her out of the tree now loomed over her as she stared up in horror.

The Charger pulled back his massive arm, fully intending to smash her into the concrete. She wasn't entirely sure how she, as she was screaming in fright, managed to bring her rifle up in time to block the Charger's fist, but she was thankful that she did. There was a sudden, sharp pain in her right wrist as her gun bent from the force of the impact. Her rifle was now completely useless.

Heaving her sniper at the Charger to distract him, Gina rolled to the side and into a crouch, pistols drawn, and fired. Another extremely sharp pain erupted in her right wrist as the gun jolted from the force of the shot. It completely missed her target. Cursing, she dove out of the way of his fist yet again, shoving one of her pistols in her holster and using her left hand instead. Taking careful aim, she used her entire clip, reloading and using another half a clip to finally kill the Special Infected. She carefully stood up, reloading her pistol before being shoved to the ground. The next thing she knew, blows were raining down upon her from all sides.

"Shit!" She covered her head with her arms, kicking out furiously to push back the horde that had surrounded her. She pulled her self to her feet, shoving to and fro and ignoring the pain as best as she could. She unloaded clip after clip into the heads of the Infected that were all around her, trying to get back to the tree. And every time she threw a punch with her free hand, her right hand, her wrist would throb in pain. Desperately, she pulled out her hunter's knife, slashing this way and that so wildly, she was flailing.

There! The tree was right there! She attempted to jump up but was pushed from behind. She whirled around, blasting the Infected in the head, and pressed her back to the trunk, continuing to frantically shoot and slash everything she could. Her lungs were burning with each gasp and her legs felt like jelly. There was a pipe bomb in her pocket, but there was no time to grab it. They wouldn't stop coming!

How much more ammo was left? She was going to run out of pistol clips and then have to resort to using her knife and fist. And she was far too outnumbered to take them all on with just that!

She didn't hear the screech until she was suddenly on the ground again. Someone was standing over her, shrieking the whole time. A Hunter? _Aaren_?

Not wanting to move, Gina squeezed her eyes shut, curling up into a ball and covering her head. She refused to budge, even after the screams and sounds of battle had died down. It wasn't until she felt a hand shaking her shoulder and carefully trying to pull her up did she realize that, at least for the time being, she was safe.

She opened her eyes to see Aaren's furious glare inches from her face, and she tensed when the sound of his growling reached her eyes. Clearly, he wasn't happy.

"Wh… what…?" she hesitantly asked. Aaren straightened up, pointing at his temple. She figured that she looked confused because Aaren pointed to the Charger, pointed back at her and made a shrugging motion. And then, abruptly, the message became very clear to her:

_What the hell happened?_!

She was kind of amazed that she understood. But it probably had something to do with Aaren's anger making the portrayal come across as more obvious. In any event, she had to answer the question.

"Um… he knocked me out of the tree," she answered. Aaren simply gave her an expectant look. "I didn't notice him."

Again with the exasperated shrugging motion. What was she missing? Yes, the Charger knocked her out of the tree. Apparently, that wasn't enough of an explanation to her companion.

And, hold on, why _hadn't_ she noticed the Charger in the first place?

Aaren cupped an ear with his hand, pretending to appear as if he was searching for something. Gina shook her head. "I didn't hear him. I didn't see him either."

The Hunter glared at her again. He pointed at himself and made the ear gesture, nodding. "You… did?" He nodded again.

"But you're a Hunter! You have heightened senses! You can't just assume my hearing is just as good as yours!"

His growl shut her up very quickly. That wasn't the right answer, apparently…

Of course, it hadn't helped explain why she didn't _see_ the Charger. And truthfully, she should've been able to hear him coming too; it wasn't like that particular breed of Special Infected snuck around on their tip toes. There really was no way around it – she hadn't noticed him.

But _why_? She has been so focused on sniping the Infected, there shouldn't have been any way for the Charger to slip past and…

Well, to start, he never crossed her scope's path. But she should've heard him coming!

"_Gina!"_

_Gina blinked abruptly, looking up from her book. She found herself staring at her little sister. "What?"_

"_Geez, I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes!"_

"_Sorry…"_

"_The house could be burning down, and you would be too into reading to even notice…"_

That was it. She always used to tune out the world when performing certain tasks, like reading or playing a video game. She'd be completely oblivious to anyone trying to talk to her. And that was the kind of thing she was doing now. No wonder Aaren kept startling her by tapping her shoulder; she was so into whatever she was doing, she was totally unaware of his presence until he made it known!

That kind of thing was going to get her killed, and it was growing clear that Aaren had known all along. There had to be a different approach to things now.

Briefly, her mind drifted to her days as a soccer player. She was one of the best defenders on her team. She had always had a knack of focusing in on the ball while still being totally aware of every player on the field. It was what made her unbeatable as a fullback. So… perhaps if she wanted to take on Infected with that mentality, she needed to imagine one Infected as the ball, and all the other Infected as other players?

It was a long shot, but it was most certainly better than what she _had_ been doing.

How long had it taken her to realize that? Too long; if it weren't for her Hunter friend, she would've been a goner just now. Aaren had been trying to relay the heads up since probably when they had first met. She did recall an instant where he scared the wits out of her as she was gutting an alligator…

Ignoring her own shortcomings for a moment, she quickly realized that there was a bigger issue that needed to be taken care of, and that was the lack of a reliable form of communication between her and Aaren. Messages taking days to decipher were going to result in them being killed.

She glanced up at Aaren thoughtfully. Clearly, he still understood English. His intelligence appeared to remain intact – the only thing that seemed to really suffer was his fine motors skills. Writing and talking, at the moment, were impossible for him…

But perhaps…

"Rehab…" she muttered, catching the Hunter's attention. He glanced at her quizzically; however she was too lost in thought to notice.

Yes… it could've been a long shot, but perhaps there was a chance Aaren could speak again. In any event, there was no reason not to try. Once they set out on the road, she'd whip up something to pass the time and see what she could get.

* * *

**A/N: Geez, and I thought the last chapter took long enough to come out. In any event, I'm super sorry for the wait! This week was my Spring Break so I was really able to finally sit down and eventually come up with the second half to this chapter (the first half of this chapter had been sitting patiently in my hard drive, waiting for me to finish it). This IS my longest chapter yet so hopefully that makes up for it!**

**Things have been really crazy, not just with school, but also on the homefront. My parents divorced this past December, among other things, and I'm dealing with a lot of personal crap right now. It's really been dragging my motivation down. But to reassure you, my lovely readers, I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY, NOR WILL I EVER ABANDON IT. The ideas are pouring out like a waterfall; the only way this story would be discontinued at this point would be if I died. And trust me, I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so you don't have to worry about that. In any event, I will get to work on self-healing, and hopefully, as time goes on, I'll be able to crank out more chapters as a faster rate, not just for this story, but for my other projects as well. **

**Thank you for being patient and waiting for this newest chapter. And thank you all for the love and reviews; it makes me feel a bit better knowing that I'm not just writing this story for myself :)  
**


	5. Author's Note

Hi all,

Before I say anything else, I just wanted to apologize for the lack of updates in this story. This story is still early on in the plot, and I'm so far completely amazed at the amount of positive feedback it's gotten. This story's gotten the most faves, alerts, and reviews out of all my work, and for that, I'm extremely grateful. I'm glad you've all been very patient with me, as I have the feeling that at least a few of you are anxiously waiting to read what happens next. It's been several months since anyone's heard anything in regards to _Left Behind_, and for that I'm sorry. I felt that you deserved to know what's been going on rather than being kept wondering whether or not I was gonna continue the story.

Firstly, **I will not abandon this story, nor will I discontinue it.** Of all the stories I've written, this is my best. I actually have outlines, hand-written, for Chapters 5 and 6, and I go back and read them constantly. My issue hasn't been coming up with ideas so much as it's been trying to get my words to come out right. And there's a reason why, over the past few months, I've lost my writing flow.

I'll try to be simple while not being too overwhelming:

When I was a child, I was abused by my father. I'd rather not get into the specifics of it, as that is personal, and I'm not comfortable saying more than what I am now. My younger sister also experienced the same thing, years later.

Up until recently, I had been effectively ignoring what'd happened to me and detaching myself from that experience, all the while suffering from a slew of issues from depression to a very deep self-hatred that, for a while, I ironically couldn't figure out the cause of. I went through this for years, and am still struggling through it to this day, though it never _affected_ me like it has in the past 10 months. But what changed was when my sister approached me and told me that she wanted Mom to know what'd happened.

Originally, we'd decided that we would tell Mom after we'd all moved out of Dad's house (my parents officially divorced last December - though they'd agreed to split up last spring - but she hasn't been able to afford moving out, so we've all still been living together. Not a fun time). We made this decision during last fall semester. Needless to say, my grades suffered a good deal, among other things, and I was doing a good amount of freaking out, though it was... manageable (barely, if at all).

Back in early July, my sister disclosed the information in a joint meeting with our therapist (we both see the same one) and Mom. I followed suit after she was done, though I wasn't really prepared to. Later that day, we were brought in to give police statements, and my dad was arrested not too much longer after that.

My sister and I've testified at a grand jury hearing so far; he's been indicted on 23 different felony counts. While I don't know if there will be plea bargaining or not, what I do know is, a trial date has been set for early January of next year.

For me, I've been going through a whirlwind of emotions. While my sister and dad have had a bad history, I remember better days when he used to actually act like a _father_. And I still hopelessly cling onto those memories even though I know that at this point, it's futile. I still can't wrap my mind around what he did to me, nor can I seem to believe that he really is a criminal, and that I'll probably never see him again. One side of me wants him to rot in prison, the other side wants to forget all of this ever happened. I constant fly back and forth between outrage and despair. And most of all, I'm tortured with the fact that, if I'd told someone back then, things would be much better now. And my sister wouldn't have had to go through it too.

That whole situation was, and is, very complicated; too complicated to write here and tell. But things are beginning to look up. My mom's found a very nice apartment for us all (me and my 3 siblings and mom) to move to, and just start over with a new chapter in life, and they'll be moving at the end of the month (I'd help them out, but I'm at school now).

Living in that house, Dad's house, after my experience, after my sister's experience, after the divorce, and after my dad's arrest, has been extremely toxic for us emotionally. And, since Dad's arrest, I know at least I've been an emotional and mental wreck; I'd even contemplated suicide for a brief period of time. But knowing we're going to get away from that house and that town, and just rebuild the family I felt like I lost years ago has really been a saving grace to me, a new hope. And lately, it feels like my life is beginning to turn around. I have a good feeling about the next few months; my last year in college, going off to grad school, getting my AT certification, moving into the new house, and getting my energy back.

I've been drabbling here and there, experimenting to see if I have my flow back. And I think it's almost there. So I think I'll be able to start working on _Left Behind_ once again, very soon, if not within the next couple of weeks. Granted, I don't have much time to work with, what with my class schedule and team assignments, but I promise I'll do what I can to get the next chapter out to you guys as soon as possible. I love you all and I can't express how grateful I am to you for your patience and continued support for this story. It really means a lot to me. And I hope you understand what's been going on via this A/N.

I'm not going to give you a dateline as to when I'll have this next chapter out, but I'll just say that I'll start working on it, really soon. I'll try my best to get it out within the next month or two.

Again, thank you so much and I love all of you.

- G


	6. Chapter 5

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me**

**If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

* * *

"Ahhhhh… ehhhhh… eeeeee… ohhhhh… oooooo…"

His voice was slightly hoarse, but the pure vowels were pronounced well enough to tell which was which.

Gina grinned at him. "You're doing great. Keep going for a few minutes until you feel really comfortable with it, and then we'll start going through long vowels and consonants."

Aaren sighed, but he nevertheless did as told.

Truthfully, she had absolutely no idea if her little rehab exercises were actually _working_; she didn't go to school for speech therapy after all. She _did_, however, have her certification in Athletic Training, and she knew how to rehabilitate injuries.

So, she'd decided to treat his condition like she would treat an ACL – with lots of time, patience, and work. He was making some pretty steady progress too. She suspected it was because he already knew the English language; it was just a matter of getting the intricate muscles to work the way he needed them to work.

Their first order of business: re-teaching his mouth how to pronounce her name. Obviously, she didn't want to accidentally shoot him in the middle of a horde. The best way to differentiate him from the typical Hunter was to hear him call her name.

It was much easier getting him to agree to this idea than it was getting him to agree to her climbing into the tree. The only tricky part had been explaining the details.

"It's like rehabbing an injury," she'd said. Aaren had given her a strange look. "I'm an Athletic Trainer."

He'd looked even more confused at that. It was frustrating, yes, but it hadn't surprised her. After all, it seemed to be a rare occurrence for people to actually know what athletic training entailed.

After sighing, and taking a moment to compose her thoughts, she'd tried again. "You know when you're watching TV, like football or basketball, and a player goes down on the field, and people run out to take care of them?" Aaren had blinked – he seemed to wonder how _that_ related to anything she was trying to explain, "Those people are athletic trainers. Athletic trainers are medical professionals. I work with athletic injuries. Actually, I was two months into my first year of med school when the infection hit."

Aaren's eyes had lit up in comprehension. He'd seemed to know what she was describing. So she'd continued. "You're having a hard time working your mouth to talk; this Green Flu seems to affect fine motor skills, right?" Aaren had looked slightly unsure. Gina'd thought for a moment, trying to think of an example.

"Aaren," her voice had been serious, "I want you to pucker your lips like you're going to kiss me."

The Hunter had blanched. He'd stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. She'd pointedly looked over at him, "Do it."

Hesitantly – and at the time she couldn't see if his cheeks were slightly pink from embarrassment under the hood – he'd begun fumbling with shaping his mouth into the desired position. And he'd had a hard time doing it.

She'd nodded knowingly. "Now," she'd instructed, "I want you to touch the back of your teeth with your tongue."

Once again, Aaren had a difficult time. He huffed, slouching against his seat sulkily in irritation. After chuckling a little – and earning herself an indignant glare from her companion – Gina'd continued on to make her point.

"The way you speak is more than just your jaw's ability to open and shut," she'd gently explained, "You have smaller muscles, namely the tongue as well as the lips, which control your pronunciation when you talk. Those muscles have atrophied," Aaren had blinked at that, causing her to falter briefly, "… Ah… I mean… they've gotten weaker, because the nerves are shot to hell from the Green Flu. We just need to re-strengthen them, is all. And you remember English, so this should be a piece of cake!"

At first, Aaren had seemed to struggle. It'd been clear that he was starting to grow frustrated too. At one point, he'd glanced over helplessly at her: _why isn't this working?_!

She'd still found it intriguing that she could decipher his messages only when he was expressing them through strong emotion. But at the time, the observation wasn't important.

She'd smiled reassuringly at him. "It sucks, I know," she'd soothed, "This is gonna take some time. I'm sorry I didn't say it before. You retaining your consciousness will speed up the process, but it'll be days, maybe even a couple of weeks, before you can talk relatively normal again. And that's if we work on it _constantly_ throughout the day," her smile had changed into a challenging grin, "You up for that?"

There had been a brief pause as Aaren seemed to let her words sink in. Letting out a resigned sigh, he'd nodded, ready to go.

And he really had been determined since. They'd been traveling for a couple of hours and he already was getting the hang of vowels. Outside, the sky darkened – flashes of lightning danced across the heavens. A storm was coming.

"I have to say, I'm impressed at your progress," she mentioned as Aaren completed another round of exercises, "And you're probably one of the most dedicated patients I've ever worked with." She giggled when Aaren gave her a funny look at that. "I'm thinking that you're not gonna have any real difficulty until we get started on the consonants."

Aaren nodded in response, understanding her words. Gina gave him another encouraging grin, and instructed him to continue his vocal exercises, this time including long vowels along with pure vowels. As he complied, she began to mull over her thoughts.

Aaren's determination was admirable. She was certain he'd be able to slur words within a week, and be able to annunciate properly a few more weeks after that, especially with the way he tackled the task at hand. And that was ignoring her optimism.

She didn't want to outwardly admit it, because in a way she was still unused to having a Special Infected for a companion, but she was kind of glad that Aaren had come across her (or was it the other way around?). She wouldn't have been able to deal with all the stress on her own, not to mention she would've been unbearably lonely. At least with Aaren with her, she had someone who was willing to support her, even with the current communication issue.

_Thank you for visiting Vicksburg!_

Gina blinked at the rat-a-tat-tat on her windshield as the water droplets obscured the sign she was passing, turning on the wipers and her hi-beams. It was beginning to rain. That was never good. She'd wanted to just assume the ominous clouds they were driving into were just a large storm front. But she also knew that it was hurricane season. Ellis would tell outrageous stories of how his hometown was constantly being pummeled by wind, hail, and rain during the late summer months. When the duo had initially set out, their attempts to tune in to a news or weather station on the radio proved to be in vain. It was as if the country had shut down completely.

And truthfully, she couldn't even be certain if that really wasn't the case. Since the beginning of the infection, Gina had next to no information regarding the breakout, and what little information she had, she gathered through her own experiences. It'd started in the Northeast, Philadelphia to be exact, and rapidly spread along the east coast. She had no idea how the country to the west looked. All she knew was what Ellis had told her: New Orleans was the last evacuation site left. And it had been a while since they set out from Savannah; who knew if that was still the case?

"_I'll see you at New Orleans!"_

The only thing that mattered to her was getting back to her friends before it was too late. But then, a little voice reminded her, what about Aaren? What would happen to him? Her heart panged. That wasn't right at all. Surely he really wasn't planning on helping her and then going back to surviving in this wasteland alone? She couldn't just _leave_ him to fend for himself after everything he'd done for her thus far. Her Hunter companion… actually, she really considered him a friend at this point… and her… they'd been through quite a lot. _He's a Hunter, though… who would let him just waltz into a safe zone?_

It wasn't fair. Before the end of this journey, she would have to find some way to repay Aaren for his help. She owed him her life.

She gave a small start when she felt a large gale hammer against the car. The rain was really beginning to pour down, the roads now slick with water. She slowed down a little – she had been cruising along U.S. 61 at 65 miles per hour – and began to carefully evade any water puddles that would cause her to hydroplane.

"This weather's ridiculous…" she muttered to herself before glancing over at Aaren, "How are those exercises coming along?"

He was just finishing, and glanced over at her voice. He smirked, giving her a thumbs-up, and she grinned in response. He adjusted his sitting position, happening to glance out his window. Suddenly, he threw himself back, pressing himself as far into his seat as he could. His eyes, from what she could see under his hood, were as wide as saucers.

"Wh… what? What is it?_!_" she demanded, and he instantly flung a hand to point ahead of them. Her head whipped in the indicated direction, eyes widening in horrific recognition at the lumbering giant as he suddenly appeared in her headlights.

"SHIT!"

Her hands moved even before her mind began to process the situation. The squealing tires on the road rang in her ears, and she was faintly aware of Aaren's surprised screech as the force from the sudden maneuver slammed him into his side window. It was all she could do to hang onto the steering wheel as she fought to keep the car on the road. Did she manage to get past…!

There was a loud bang; crunching metal… the rear window was shattered. Suddenly there was wind and water and rain and she didn't know which way was up and the car windshield was collapsing and there was glass everywhere and the scent of the burning metal and rubber was _awful_. A weight fell on her and she fell towards her window. The car was… lying on its side? He was above her, arms holding himself over her on either side of her head. Too dark to see his face… Aaren, Aaren, Aaren, Aaren's okay? Is he okay? Why is he just hovering over me?

The ground was shaking. The Tank was coming closer. He was going to come up and smash the car to bits and crush them inside. She was still buckled in. The button wouldn't release. She was _stuck_ in the car. The Tank was going to pummel the car into the ground, and she'd die because she was too stunned to move oh god and the pain… her ribs… it was like inhaling _fire_.

The thunder and wind and Tank's bellowing all melded together into one deafening roar. Her world was jumbled, and there was no time, no time, NO TIME!

There was a grunt near her ear, and a ripping sound, and suddenly, Aaren's body heat was much closer than she expected. His face was inches above hers, and even with the limited light, she could see the hint of gold in his eyes.

He leaned a little closer. She could feel his muscles tense. "Ssssszzzzay…. Sszzzzay hea."

_Stay here._

Before she could respond, he hurdled himself out of the car through the destroyed windshield. The already chaotic sound around her was pierced by Aaren's shriek, and an enraged roar from the Tank.

Oh god… no… Aaren was taking the Tank on _alone?_!

In that instant, her shock was replaced with action. She pulled furiously against the seatbelt. Still stuck. She had to free herself… knife… right she could cut the fabric with her hunting knife. Where was it… thigh holster. Her right wrist throbbed in pain as she awkwardly twisted it to pull out the blade.

It took her way too long to cut through the belt. She dragged herself through the windshield, not noticing the little glass shards embedding in her hands, arms, and knees.

The volume of the world around her was exponentially louder than from inside the car. In seconds, she was thoroughly soaked, her hair being whipped back and forth from wind so strong, it'd nearly knocked her over. That didn't matter. What mattered was…

She wrenched her pistol out, whipping around quickly, searching for the Tank or Aaren, or a sign of either. She saw nothing. She heard nothing either. She couldn't even _feel_ the telltale rumbling of the Tank moving about.

_So where was Aaren?_ Tentatively, she shook a few steps away from the car, not wanting to move too far and potentially succeed in separating themselves. They couldn't have possibly moved that far away… could they have?

She couldn't make a noise – who knew if there were any other Infected in the area? – and she couldn't venture far enough away to search. Slowly, the wind calmed down, bringing the noise level to such so she could mentally function. _There's no sign of Aaren_. She knew she'd be able to hear _something_ by that point. What if… what if he didn't make it? _No… no he couldn't have died there was no way he's definitely okay the Tank must've died but where's Aaren there's no sign of him anywhere and I don't even know where to start and oh god what if he really is dead oh god oh god I'm alone out here I can't do this by myself I won't be able to catch up to the others and I'll die out here die die die I'll DIE but no calm down Gina calm down you gotta think things through be vigilant he's gotta be around here somewhere where's Aaren keep looking keep looking oh my god I don't even know where to start FUCK I can't yell because then other things will hear me and attack me and I can't risk that but I have to find him what if he's hurt or something and he dies because I can't find him and I can't do this alone I need him with me he's the only friend I've got and I just let him go off to his doom what was I thinking why didn't I stop him oh my god the Tank could've crushed him into a pulp and I didn't do anything what's wrong with me calm down calm down I just need to take this one step at a time WHERE'S AAREN?_!

Her pistol had lowered somewhat, but was still held at the ready. She calmed down her breathing, straining to hear past the steady rain and occasional claps of thunder.

"Damn it…" she muttered, squinting into the dark as if it'd actually help her to see, "I can't see… shit."

She couldn't call his name. She didn't want to turn on her flashlight. The one headlight that somehow was intact was the only source of light she had; a beacon that they could return to.

"Which way did he even…" she bit her lip, took a shaky breath, and took several steps away from the car, the hissing engine, in the hopes that _maybe_, just maybe, she would find some sign of him. "A… Aaren?" she whispered, wondering if he could even hear _that_ over the rain and hoping she'd hear some sort of response.

She heard a response; a low growl, far from the reassuring sound that Aaren would make in that situation. Her eyes widened in horror.

She wasn't alone.

She threw her gun up to eye level, whirling around every time she heard a splash or rustling in the shadows, and took steps backwards until the car was against her back. The sound was unmistakably that of a Hunter's. And it definitely wasn't Aaren. Her eyes darted side to side, focusing on any movement she thought she saw. Her voice caught in her throat – even if she wanted to call for her friend, there was no way the words would make it past the huge lump threatening to choke her.

She heard the growl again, this time much closer, to her right. She whirled to face the source, a sort of crazed will to survive overcoming her. She would be _damned_ if she lost everything here. Her hands were steady, gripping her pistol so tight, her knuckles were white.

"Bring it," she heard herself growl threateningly in return (she didn't even know she could make that kind of sound – Aaren's belief of her similarities to a Hunter sprang forth and she could've just _laughed_ at how right he was), and she crouched low, leg muscles tense and ready to spring should she need to, "I'll kill you first."

The strange Hunter growled again, much more maliciously than before, almost like a snarl. Clearly, he understood her message. But his voice faltered when there was another growl in the other direction, calmer than the first Hunter's, but still threatening. Gina froze; there was no way she was going to take on two Hunters and live to tell the tale…

The calmer growl was growing steadily closer, and with it she was able to better hear the tone of voice. It was calmer, yes, but it was a deathly calm. Almost self-assured. It almost sounded possessive too…

_Back off_.

The sound was approaching her way too steadily to just be any Hunter; it was as if this newcomer knew that she wouldn't shoot him. Shakily, and hoping her instincts were right, she turned to face the direction of the newcomer's voice, and froze when she saw a Hunter crawling towards her, the headlight illuminating his being in the night.

The first Hunter, the scary one, snarled furiously in response, and she whirled back around in his direction. She had no idea what to do.

The second Hunter answered that question for her; he repeated that same, calm, possessive growl.

_I **said**, back off._

The first Hunter's next sound was much more subdued, and she then heard a rustle. It sounded like the first Hunter had retreated for the time being. Well, if that was the case…

She turned back around to face the second Hunter, who was merely feet away from her. After a long moment of silence, the Hunter stood up, straightened himself out, and immediately Gina saw the indoor soccer shoes.

She was on her feet before she even realized it, running at him and flinging her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace. They were both thoroughly drenched and cold, but it wasn't important. Their best method of transportation was totaled, but that was trivial. She felt him freeze, stiffening at the sudden contact, but she didn't care. All that mattered was…

"Thank god you're okay," she whispered, burying her face into his chest and tightening her hug.

After a long moment, Aaren slowly relaxed, bringing a hand up to comfortingly rub her shoulders, humming soothingly.

* * *

**A/N: Writing this only took me two days (I started it yesterday). I figured that the problem would be getting the motivation to write.**

**Update on my life: Mom's moved into a new place. Dad's being sentenced to 15 years. I think I want to go to the sentencing hearing to make my victim's statement. Though at the same time I'm kind of terrified to. I don't want to see him in prison attire, and I'm having the same issue of denial that I did before. I'm pathetic, I know. (I'm also kind of drunk while typing this A/N so please don't mind me).**

**With regards to this chapter, I'm extremely proud of how it came out. I can safely say this is the best chapter I have ever written, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.**

**I also wanted to say thank you for all of your supportive reviews. I don't think I can express just how much your words mean to me, and they helped through really dark times. Your support helped save my life, and for that I cannot thank you enough. I love all of you.**

**- G**


	7. Chapter 6

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me**

**If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Gina absentmindedly moved her right hand around in various directions, wincing every now when a particular position send a shock of pain to her right wrist. Her range of motion was pretty limited, that was for sure. The swelling around the joint wasn't helping much either. It was a nasty sprain, all right. And she really didn't have much with which to treat it, besides bandages to try and compress the edema. Still, being right-hand dominant, it put her at a severe disadvantage. As if she didn't already feel useless enough as it was.

"Hey." She glanced up. She was slightly surprised that Aaren had pronounced the word so clearly. Words with simpler pronunciation he had pretty much mastered, and she was impressed that he'd done so in such short time. He was making extremely good progress indeed.

"O… kay?" He fumbled a little with the 'k' sound in the back of his throat, but she understood what he was saying nonetheless. For a long moment, she regarded him. The only thing that kept coming to mind was the horror felt, knowing that Aaren had planned to recklessly take on the Tank by himself. Sure, he was a Hunter, but he was going up against a _Tank_. Tanks were massive, impossible to beat by oneself, and could kill with one hit. What if something had gone wrong and he'd…

And as she thought about it, he was always going out of his way to save her, wasn't he? Some instances made sense, such as the Smoker, and perhaps when she was being overwhelmed by the horde in Clayton. In both instances, her hyper-focus had left her all but completely defenseless, and she would've most certainly died if it weren't for Aaren. He was the one who'd helped her to change her concentration tactics for the better, and now she hadn't had any serious problems since. But it was feeling more and more like he considered her a child he had to babysat instead of a teammate he could rely on in sticky situations.

She always prided herself on being reliable regardless of the situation; the type of person that could be turned to without hesitation. Being useless, some kind of 'damsel in distress'… she absolutely hated it. It made her feel weak, pathetic. She'd resolved to be a strong, independent woman after her teenage years. Back then, her insecurities had resulted in her amassing a number of friends who only used her, and she'd always found herself going back to them, like a loyal, abused, dog. Like she couldn't live without them, even if they had made her life a living hell. No, she refused to ever be weak like that again, or in _any_ way ever again. So for Aaren to act like she couldn't handle herself, she couldn't take that, _wouldn't_ take it.

"Can I say something?" she heard herself saying before she even realized it. Aaren blinked before crouching comfortably in front of her and watching her expectantly. Well, there was no going back now, was there? "Well… it's just… that thing with the Tank got me thinking… and… I don't know."

She had _no idea_ how to say it without sounding arrogant. Aaren watched her for a moment before he placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, unsure of how the conversation would end, before she continued.

"Well, I mean… it's just that, I feel like you're doing like, everything, you know? And I know you're stronger and faster than me, but I can fight too. I mean, I'm not saying that I don't appreciate your help all those times, I really do! It's just… I didn't know what'd happened when you went after that Tank. I thought you _died_. I just… I just want you to rely on me a little, you know?"

His hand left her shoulder, and she glanced up, surprised to see a scowl on his face. "No," he replied, his voice a growl. Gina was taken aback, not just by the tone, but by his answer.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" she asked incredulously, "You're gonna keep treating me like a kid?"

He was steadily growling at her. He abruptly pointed at her, then outside, before making a cut-throat gesture. That message was a bit awkward to decipher, but Gina had the feeling that he'd said something like y_ou'd be dead out there if it wasn't for me._ Gina could feel her temper flaring, but she didn't really care. All the stress of the past several days suddenly rushed to the forefront of her mind, overwhelming her, and the only clear thought that emerged among the rest was _he has some nerve assuming I can't hold my own_!

"Excuse me?" her voice was growing louder as she heatedly shot back, "For your information, I'm perfect capable of protecting myself, and I was doing that and a hell of a lot more before you came along! I can watch your back, just trust me!"

"No," he snarled angrily, making a series of half-words that she couldn't understand. It reminded her of when they'd truly first met; his attempts at pronouncing his name nearly had her in stitches back then. Unfortunately, the noises presently didn't have the same effect. Her anger blew up all the same. This was absolutely ridiculous!

"I was part of a _team_ before I met you!" she exploded, "I looked out for them and they looked out for me! We've been through a lot of shit and I haven't died yet, have I?_!_ I'm a lot stronger than you think I am, prick!"

Abruptly, he screeched, startling her into silence. She stared at him, wide-eyed, stunned at his outburst. Slowly, her eyes narrowed into icy slits, and she stood up. "Forget it," she spat before turning and stalking off to one of the bedrooms in the cabin, where she slammed the door shut, leaving Aaren alone in the stillness left in the wake of the argument.

…

The springs poked through the old mattress, painfully jabbing her in the back. She just couldn't bring herself to care, however. Instead, she lay in silence, the monotony of the room broken only by the flickering of the dim lamp on the little bedside table and the occasional flash of lightning from outside. The light-bulb would probably die soon. Not that it mattered; she knew they weren't going to be camping out in the abandoned cabin for much longer. There had been a couple of cans of food they used to refuel their energy, and ammo for her pistols. She really needed to find a bigger gun. But at least there were bandages she could use.

She held her right hand above her, studying the wrap job she'd done on it while stewing in her rage. She'd used one roll as a compression wrap, to help push out the swelling. The second one she found was used as a support, wrapping it in such a way as to pull the wrist into a comfortable position and keep it there. She also made sure to wrap it in such a way as to limit the amount of extension her wrist went into – that motion caused the most pain. Besides that, the only thing she could do was strengthening exercises whenever they found a safe-house, and popping pills to dull the pain.

Slowly, she turned her hand, now glancing at her palm, and watched as she slowly clenched it into a tight fist. Unwillingly, her thoughts drifted towards the argument she'd had with Aaren. It'd upset her more than she was ready to admit when Aaren had been so adamant about rejecting her proposal. Did he have such little faith in her? The only message she felt she'd gotten from Aaren was _you aren't strong enough, you can't do anything without me_.

She didn't want to think that really was what he meant, but she sure as hell interpreted it as that. Over the years she thought she really had changed, nurtured some confidence, and became her own woman, but… was she still the same as before? Was she still the dependent, pitiful child she'd hated for years?

Still, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty for losing her temper and exploding when she had. Back in the day, she'd been more accustomed to bottling up her anger, keeping her mouth shut and simply enduring. After all, if she complained even a little bit to her 'friends' about something they did that she didn't like, they would gang up on her, blame her for being mad, make her out to be the bad guy. Then one day she'd lost it, blown up at one of them over something – she didn't even remember what – and since then she never had any qualms about letting someone have it without hesitation.

But, this time… maybe she'd blown it all out of proportion – she'd been known to do that from time to time. But still… why did he seem to trust her abilities so little? _Maybe it's because of every time you've screwed up since you met_, she thought sourly, mentally berating herself, _I mean, it's not like you've given him a reason to trust your abilities_. Why else would he be so bent on babying her? Did he have any reason not to, if she really was as useless as he seemed to think?

But her survival thus far had been enough, hadn't it? Granted, she'd been working with four other people prior to her separation, but she really had put in her share of the work, always willing to act as decoy or taking on the most dangerous tasks. Her athleticism gave her an advantage that the others, save for maybe Ellis, didn't have. And sure, she had her weaknesses, but everyone always covered each other's weakness with their own strengths. And their teamwork had worked! It'd been almost a month since the world went to hell, and she was still alive. She had weaknesses, yes, and Aaren made sure to help her with those. Did Aaren _have_ any weaknesses? He didn't seem to. Was she really just useless to the point where he didn't _need_ her help? She wanted to be someone he could rely on; not a burden that would only get in his way!

Why couldn't she find that kind of connection with Aaren? She needed to have _some_ kind of bond with him. They couldn't just practically be strangers fighting for a common goal. Really, she didn't know if she'd ever see her friends again, and all things considering, the chances that she would were pretty slim, regardless of what she wanted. At this point, Aaren would be all she had left.

More than anything, she didn't want to see him put himself in unnecessary danger for her sake. If he died after pulling a stunt like he had with the earlier Tank, she didn't know what she'd do. So, she quietly decided, he _couldn't_ die. She wouldn't allow it. She'd find a way to prove to him her strength, and then he's have no choice but to let her be a team mate rather than his burden to fuss over. She'd be damned if something happened to him _just because_ he wouldn't let her protect him.

She lay there for a little while longer before getting up, glancing around the room to search for more supplies. They'd been camped out at the cabin for a couple of hours, but there was still a lot of daylight let, even with the darkness of the hurricane. She wanted to cover as much ground as she could before conditions got any worse. As she approached the door, however, she grew slightly hesitant.

Aaren was in the next room, and she was sure he was still angry at her for her outburst. She didn't blame him, of course, but she wasn't planning on apologizing. He needed to get it that she really was capable of holding her own in most circumstances. Her tantrum might have been unnecessary, but she had a good reason to be upset at him all the same.

She took a deep breath, forcing some of the vestiges of anger to remain in her head, and let herself back into the main room. Aaren, who'd been practicing his pronunciation exercises, paused at the sound, and glanced over at her, an unreadable glint in his eyes. Gina didn't allow her mind to dwell on trying to figure out his thoughts.

"We need to get going."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, silently challenging one another to say the wrong thing or make the wrong move. The tension in the air was thick, the silence between them the weight of a mountain. The Hunter broke the gaze first, standing up and stretching slightly. Then, without even sparing her a second glance, he headed towards the door.

She expected to feel anger at that. At first, to her bemusement, she was fleetingly crestfallen, her heart sinking slightly at his blatant show of ignoring her. Was she really that insignificant to him, after all? But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a quiet fury as she stormed out after him. Fine. If Aaren was going to play that way then fine. So be it.

The rain fell steadily, and the clouds darkened the sky too much for her liking. The howling wind didn't make it all that much better; it wasn't long before she was drenched. Her clothes felt like they weighed a ton. Since she and Aaren mutually refused to let her ride on his back, they were walking, silently, several feet of space in between one another.

Gina had a hand resting on her pistol holster. Although it was quiet aside from the sounds of the storm overall, she couldn't help but have the feeling that they were being watched, maybe even followed. The only question was, what exactly was it? The area was strangely empty of Infected, which implied any number of things. The Infected could've been swept away in the river. Perhaps a group of survivors had passed through not too long ago, clearing out the area? Besides the Tank and Hunter from before, she hadn't seen anything else since.

Aaren hadn't said anything to her, or even so much as made a sound, but with her discreet glances in his direction – an instinctive urge to check on him and make sure he was still there – he was tense, glancing around them with the intensity of a predator. Slowly, she drew her gun, holding it at her side, but more than ready to bring it up and fire if she needed to. Wherever she looked though, she saw nothing. So where _was_ the thing?

The wind suddenly picked up and the steady shower turned into a torrential downpour. _Shit…_ She couldn't see two feet in front of her. She'd heard stories of squalls from Coach and Ellis, but she never imagined it'd be like this. She squinted her eyes, trying to locate her Hunter companion. The rain was so thick, Aaren had completely disappeared from her line of sight, and her surroundings had become so loud…

"Aaren!" she shouted, hoping her voice carried over top of the wind and thunder. There wasn't a response at first. Suddenly, she heard a screech from behind her, but the tone of voice was far from what she expected from Aaren. As she whirled around to face the new adversary, gun thrown up to eye level, she was abruptly slammed into and knocked to the ground, the gun sliding across the way and out of reach. It was a Hunter, pinning her to the road.

"Shit!" She thrust her palm forward, jamming it into the Hunter's chin and wrenching his head back, thrashing violently in an attempt to buck him off of her, the other hand shooting up and grabbing one of his wrists tightly. But it was no use; she was at a terrible angle and was unable to use much of her strength. She didn't have a fighting chance. The Hunter seemed to be grinning wildly, and he brought his free hand down, fully intending to shred through her stomach. Then, just as abruptly as he appeared, he disappeared in a dark blur, his weight on top of her vanishing. Through the wind and rain came the sound of bloodcurdling screeches.

_Aaren…_ the rain was beginning to calm down, and she could see the Hunter and Aaren, violently wrestling close to a downhill slope. Aaren had been knocked over and pinned down – the Hunter appeared bigger, and possibly stronger – and was valiantly fending off the Hunter's attempts to tear into him. Their movements pitched them over the edge of the hill. _Shit!_ Scrambling to her feet, Gina grabbed her second pistol, sprinting over to the top of the hill and aiming carefully. They were sliding, but not too fast, and the Hunter was still on top, making him an easy target.

Two well-placed bullets embedded into the Hunter's skull, and he fell on top of Aaren like a dead weight. This distracted him from getting his bearings, slightly pinned him even, and just an instant later, he and the fresh corpse plunged into the swollen Mississippi.

"Damn it!" There was no way Aaren was going to get out on his own; Infected seemed to lose the ability to swim, some of them even developing hydrophobia. She and her friends had used that knowledge several times to escape hordes. Gina shoved her one pistol into the holster and took off, sliding down the hill and diving into the water after him.

…

_Oh my god I can't move why can't I move shit I'm drowning I'm going to die if I don't move I'M GOING TO DIE!_

He'd experienced pain on many different levels throughout his life. But nothing could really compare to the sensation of dying.

It was all moving far too fast for him to keep up. One instant he was wrenching himself up just long enough to attempt to take a gulp of air through the water threatening to climb back up his throat. But instead of air, he found himself inhaling more water, choking on it as it swirled all around him, yanking him this way and that.

His nose, throat, lungs, all of it was burning, and he couldn't breathe. His muscles weren't listening to him, and his body felt heavier than it ever had in years, fighting against his desperate attempts to break the surface for longer than just the blink of an eye. His chest felt constricted, as if trapped in a tightening vice grip and he _couldn't breathe_.

Everything was dark, dark, dark, and he was being jerked back and forth and up and down and in circles. He couldn't see, he couldn't even figure out which way was up or down. He was… really going to die. _No no no there's no way I'm going to die_. Gina… she needed his protection. He wanted her to be okay, her safety nearly a necessity for him, especially since the incident in Dundee. So long as she was okay, he was okay… but if he died…

It was so murky. His vision was flittering between total darkness and the near-black greenish brown that was the river itself. Along with his extremities, now his entire body felt like a lead weight. The sensation of being thrown back and forth had disappeared. Now, he was sinking slowly towards blackness. _Can't…_

Abruptly his shoulders were wrenched back, and the noise around him exploded like a bomb. The roaring waters of the Mississippi, the thunder that rolled in the flashing skies overhead, it all screamed in his ears. His lungs burned; it was almost more painful to refill them with air that it was to accidentally fill them with water. He still choked and spluttered either way.

He went to reach out for a drifting piece of debris passing him, only to find his arms unable to move. He was stuck… no… he was _pinned_. He jerked one shoulder forward, trying to pull an arm from the grip he was in. He couldn't move. He was floating down a giant, flooded river, and something… someone… was pinning him in the water. No no no no FUCK NO LET GO OF ME GET OFF I'LL TEAR YOU TO SHREDS LET ME FUCKING GO!

And he thrashed, flailing around frantically. He could feel his swipes catching a little bit here, tearing a little bit there. But the hold on his shoulders wouldn't loosen. God… oh god… was he about to _die_? Fuck it won't let me go fuck it won't let me go oh god it's going to drag me down to the bottom of the ocean and let me drown and OH GOD I DON'T WANT TO DIE PLEASE DON'T LET ME DIE!

Harder. Had to try harder. He now was trying to grab at any part of his assailant he could reach. He swiped up higher, behind his head and felt skin separating around his clawed finger, warmth trickling over the digit. There was a hissed, breathless curse just behind him, and he was suddenly jerked backwards, now almost completely supine in the water. He wailed, probably longer and louder than he ever had since turning. Frantically now, he struggled, only hearing the blood pounding in his ears from the fear-triggered adrenaline. He could feel the burning in his chest return every time his thrashing resulting in inhaling a gulp of water. The grip around his arms only tightened in response.

And then, it got colder. He was suddenly hyperaware of the strong wind chilling him to the bone. He quickly realized he was being dragged through slick, wet, muddy grass. He… he'd been rescued?

He spluttered, gagging on the water he'd inhaled in his struggles, and the grip around his arms disappeared. He felt something push on his back, encouraging him to lean forward as he began coughing violently, heaving up mouthful after mouthful of water until he was raggedly panting in exhaustion, and proceeded to alternate between rubbing in soothing circles, and firmly smacking him in between the shoulder blades. He wasn't having any of that, and slashed out with a snarl. The presence backed off with another hissed curse, and it wasn't until he clearly heard the voice – "Jesus fucking Christ!" – that he froze, eyes wide in astonishment. No way… it couldn't be.

Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. As he took in the sight of her, his stomach plummeted, his heart leaping to his throat. Gina was glaring at him, crouched several feet away from him, but it wasn't her fury that'd caught his attention. No, his focus was on the cuts lining her arms and shoulders. She was gripping one of her arms, a long cut traveling across her upper arm. It looked fresh. Had he just _done_ that to her?

Her voice broke into his reverie. "Stop practically seizing like that, idiot. You just nearly drowned, so calm down," Her voice was even, calm. Her gaze was averted to the rushing waters of the river that'd nearly swept them away. "Take slow, deep breaths so you don't have a coughing fit."

There was a long gash on her cheek, bleeding freely. It looked relatively deep, and painful. _He_ did that to her, just like he nearly ripped her jacket and her arms to shreds. He could've _killed_ her if he'd hit her the wrong way. And as it was, that wound would leave a scar.

_Oh god… what had I almost done?_

He felt sick. After all of his obsession on protecting her, he'd nearly killed her himself. God… what if she'd…

He found himself crawling over to her, crouching in front of her. His eyes were trained on the wound as he lifted a trembling hand, slowly bringing it to her face. His fingers – his _disgusting claws_, he savagely corrected himself – brushed against the skin there, tracing the laceration. In the back of his mind, he reveled in the softness of her skin. But then he felt Gina stiffen, and he almost recoiled. Was she afraid of him now? His heart began to race as a panic began to quietly take hold. She was all he really had in this hell… he didn't want to be left alone again! But he'd nearly killed her… he could've killed her…

"S-sorry…" he whispered through a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away. He suddenly found his eyes stinging almost painfully, and Gina's face blurred in front of him. "I'm sorry…"

A long silence fell over them, the sound of rain fading into the background. He felt Gina's eyes on him, watching as he stroked around the injury for a moment longer before letting his hand lower to his side. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, and so his gaze fell as well, drifting to the gash on her arm. The one _he'd_ afflicted. The lump in his throat only grew in size.

She moved, and he watched as her torso drifted closer. Then, a weight settled in the crook of his neck. Through his soaked, frozen clothes, he could feel puffs of heat fanning out over his chest, causing a brief shiver to race up his spine. He chanced a glance, and found she'd leaned forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Then, he found he couldn't tear away his gaze, and instead could only watch her, amazed that she hadn't run from him.

"It's okay," she breathed, every line of her body expressing exhaustion. She'd jumped into a raging river, found and grabbed him, and dragged the two of them ashore, even as he was attacking her. As these thoughts sank in, he realized that she really was stronger that he expected her to be.

She didn't have the Infection, didn't have abnormal strength or speed like he did, but… she'd managed, on her own, separated from friends and family, and in a group of complete strangers. He'd brushed all of that aside, too obsessed with her safety. But she was here, and granted she was a little beat up, but she protected the two of them, on her own, without his help. She'd been right all along.

He felt a small smile tug at the corners of his lips, and he tilted his head to lean against hers, nuzzling her gently. They _were_ a team. He'd have to remind himself of that every now and then, but that was okay. It was something he had to get used to, as he'd been on his own trying to survive since the Infection hit, but he was sure he would adapt sooner rather than later. So long as Gina was still alive and with him, everything would be okay.

* * *

**A/N: This took me far longer than I'd like to admit. Many thanks to De Mam, who helped me out with development and blah blah blah because she's an awesome writer and my mom.**

**So I know I already take long enough to update as it is. But, I have a minor block in plot. See, I have the current point of Now, and a point at the end of Chapter 7. I just need to figure out what happens in the beginning and middle of Chapter 7, is all. I'm not sure how long that'll take, and what with this being my LAST SEMESTER AT ITHACA COLLEGE HOLY SHIT! It'll be a hectic several months. I'll do my best to figure things out and update in hopefully under 6 months! In the meantime, I hope you liked this chapter. Reviews are encouraged~**


	8. Chapter 7

**Dislcaimer: _Left 4 Dead 2 _belongs to it's respective creators. The OC, Gina, and this particular plot belong to me**

**If you don't like OC's, good Infected, or SurvivorxInfected, then I highly advise you DON'T read this. Otherwise, enjoy~**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Coming across the Wal-Mart was probably the best thing that'd happened to them, second only to getting a hold of the hybrid car, as short-lived as that was. Gina hoped the spoils of this discovery would last a bit longer.

The store was a bit of a mess, unsurprisingly – she could only imagine how things went down once the Infection hit – but there were still plenty of supplies that could be used. Currently, she was throwing medical supplies in the shopping cart she'd snagged at the entrance, Aaren watching her work.

It was amusing how this kind of find was now something akin to winning the lottery. Gina wheeled into the hygiene aisle, grabbing shampoo, conditioner and body wash, as well as several different kinds of body sponges, toothbrushes and toothpaste.

Aaren eyed the body wash disdainfully, before glancing at her. Gina returned his stare knowingly. "You and I both need a bath."

He grimaced. Obviously, he wasn't too fond of the idea. "No I don't," he replied, words only a tiny bit slurred. She grinned slightly. His speech was, for the most part normal. He could speak in coherent sentences, so long as they were short, and besides the occasional slurring, she understood everything he was trying to say. Or perhaps that was due to time spent together.

"But you do," she chided as she directed the cart towards the men's clothing, "Bad hygiene equals bad health, Infected or not."

He was grumbling behind her, and she chuckled in response. "Don't worry," she teased, glancing over her shoulder as his grouchy expression, "I'll hold your hand so you don't cry or anything like that."

He gave her an affronted glare, which nearly had her in stitches. "I'm _kidding_. Well, not about the bath part."

"Yea, yea. Figured," was his begrudging response. Nope, he wasn't looking forward to cleansing himself at _all_. It had to have been a guy thing; her brothers had always been like that…

Her thoughts drifted to that of her family. After dragging Aaren from the river, she'd discovered her cell phone had been thoroughly soaked. It was as good as dead. It had unnerved her; that phone was her only connection to her family; without it, there was no guarantee she'd ever be able to see them again. The last time she'd been in contact with any of them was a series of text messages between her and her mom:

_Mom, are you alright? Some kind of weird outbreak blew up. I heard it's hell in Philly. I'm going south._

_We're okay. Your brothers and sister are holding up. We're at an evac center here in Albany. They're flying us out._

_Okay. I just hit Georgia. There's an evac in Savannah, I think. Don't lose your phone, okay? Tell Kimmie and Ricky and David to keep their phones with them at all times too. I can't lose track of you._

_I won't. Please be careful._

_I will. You too, be safe. I love you._

_Love you too. We'll be waiting._

That was the last she'd heard from her.

There were a number of possibilities. Gina refused to even fathom the possibility that somehow her mother and her siblings hadn't made it. Being optimistic, she figured that wherever they ended up just had bad cell service. Yep. She would keep telling herself that. She'd keep telling herself that until she was throwing her arms around her mother and glomping her siblings. Because they couldn't be dead. They just _couldn't_.

Men's clothing wasn't a wreck. Neither would the women's section be, Gina suspected. Clothing had been the last thing on her mind since the beginning of this apocalypse; food, weapons and medical supplies were most important for survival, and likely, that was the thought processes of any other living survivors.

But with the damp clothing they'd been stuck wearing since their adventures in the Mississippi river, she'd been worried about fungal infections. The constant stopping in sheltered areas to air out their feet to prevent trench-foot, shivering every time the wind blew, had slowed their progress down tremendously. God only knew how far behind the others she was now. Rather than developing gangrene and hypothermia at the same time, however, she decided new outfits would take a higher notch on her priority list compared to normal.

That was why she was currently picking through the racks, looking for good quality shirts and pants. Glancing over at Aaren, however, she found it difficult to eyeball the size of his physique.

"Hey," she spoke up, catching his attention as he gave her a questioning look, "What size shirt do you wear?"

The Hunter glanced at himself briefly before shrugging. "I dunno."

That was helpful. She beckoned him, turning him around and fishing for a shirt tag without any luck. It wasn't really surprising; the clothes they were collectively wearing definitely had seen better days, _that_ was for sure.

Still, it wasn't making the selection process any easier. Chewing on her lip thoughtfully for just a moment, Gina glanced over at Aaren again. "Take your shirt off."

He stared at her for a long moment. "… Why…?" he asked slowly.

Oh right. He couldn't read her mind. That had certainly come out wrong. "Oh, um," she replied, chuckling awkwardly, "I just need to eyeball your size. You know, for a t-shirt and hoodie."

Comprehension dawned on him before he began what looked like a torturously arduous process of undressing. It reached the point where she had to give him some assistance. Clearly there were other things she was going to have to start working on with him; fine motor movements aside from speaking had completely fled her mind, which she inwardly smacked herself for. Narrow-minded treatments were a no-no in her book, so it irritated her that she didn't even think to look at any other affected skills. But that would be an issue for a later time.

Now that Aaren was shirtless, Gina took a step back to survey his torso. His muscles were extremely well-defined; it'd been hard to tell underneath his clothing. It wasn't too much of a shock, since he was extremely sturdy – his muscles had to adapt as such. She could only imagine how powerful his legs were.

But… he had an amazing body… kind of like a Greek God, but she wasn't about to say that aloud. Nor was she about to admit that she was ogling more than studying. And of course, the longer she stared the more her imagination wandered… she had to discreetly pinch herself to get back on track. _Yes, Aaren's cute… actually, he's hot… very hot… oh so very hot… shut up hormones, I'll kill you._

He had some scars here and there – battle wounds, she suspected, and she liked the way it added a bit of a roguish look to him – but there weren't any boils or skin abnormalities that she'd seen in other Hunters. _What did __**that**__ mean?_ Instead, his skin had taken on a grayish hue, but other than that, he looked completely human…

She came to a pause and stilled as her thoughts truly sank in. _Looked human_… Aaren didn't just "look" human, he _was_ a human. Ever since the start of this supposed Green Flu, she suddenly realized, it'd never actually occurred to her that the Infected – the "zombies" as Ellis had so fondly called them – were simply _humans_. Humans – victims – with a devastating illness that not only endangered them but everyone else around them. And she had been shooting and killing these humans, everyday people that were once just like her, without even blinking an eye.

How many of those Infected were like Aaren? How many of them had self-awareness and recognition? How many of them could've been taken in, monitored, maybe even treated? How many of them could've been _saved_?

That just couldn't get any more fucked up.

Something had to have changed in her expression as she made this realization; she was startled from her thoughts when Aaren rested a hand on her shoulder. She found him watching her with concern. If she hadn't been in the midst of a quiet breakdown, she would've taken the time to admire his facial features - and those were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen - now that she could see them exposed.

"Hey… you okay?" he asked, and she couldn't bring herself to say _no, I just realized I'm a serial killer who didn't care how many people she'd shot and bludgeoned and stabbed and I killed so many of them __**what the hell is wrong with me?**_**!**

Instead she blinked, shaking her head to forcefully clear her head, and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's nothing," she replied, "Just… thinking about things."

It was hard to tell if Aaren could see right through her; she'd always been really good at hiding things. Even the big things. Like what happened to her growing up; she'd kept it a secret for years the things her abusive father did to her as a child, and no one ever had a clue. But with the look Aaren was giving her, he probably wasn't buying the "I'm okay" spiel.

"Let's worry about that later," she continued, inwardly cringing at the defensiveness of her tone, "For now, let's get the rest of the supplies we need and get out of here."

Aaren seemed to understand, and let the subject go. She gave him a thankful smile – _I'll be okay, I promise_ – and set to work grabbing shirts and comparing them to his being. The choice between telling him and not telling him lingered in the back of her mind, but presently, she just wanted to get what they needed and leave.

…

"Come _on_, Aaren."

This was _so _not cool.

How she'd managed to strip him down to his boxers was still a mystery to Aaren. The evening in the hotel room had started with him asking Gina about her sudden change in mood back at the supermarket, and she evaded the topic in such a blur that the next thing he knew, they were standing in the bathroom, he was nearly naked (at least she was allowing him enough dignity to keep his underwear), and she was running a bath.

Even now though, as she was checking the water temperature, it was still clear to him that something was bothering her. The only question was, what?

Movement snapped him out of his thoughts. Gina had finished setting things up and was now looking at him expectantly. Oh right. There was still a crisis he had to avert before he could go about trying to figure out what was going through her mind.

"Well?" she asked as he slowly glowered at her. If she really thought he was going to willing set foot into _any _body of water after what happened in that hellish swamp, then she was definitely out of her mind.

"There's **no** way I'm gettinnn' th't," he shot back, words slurring a bit at the end as he hastily rushed through the phrase. He knew Gina understood him nonetheless – he could see the exasperation in her eyes. He didn't care. He almost _died_ the last time he was in water. He'd be damned if that happened again.

She huffed. "Aaren," her voice was strained with impatience, "If I can rescue you from a raging river, I'm _pretty sure_ I can rescue you from a god damned bathtub."

With those words, he shot her an indignant glare. He had experienced bits of her sarcasm here and there, especially when she was beginning to lose her temper, but really, that was just a low blow! "Was that supposed to be _funny_?"

He was positive that, had he been a bystander, he would've been rolling on the floor, laughing so hard that tears would've been streaming from his eyes at how ridiculous the scenario was turning out to be. Only he wasn't a bystander; he was about to become a victim, and there was no way in hell he was getting in that tub without a fight!

"Aaren, please get in the tub."

"No."

"Aaren. Get in the tub."

"I said no."

"I swear to god Aaren, if you don't get in that tub, I'm _getting_ you into that tub."

"Like hell you are!"

"Oh that is _it_!"

She lunged at him, the movement actually catching him off guard. It wasn't everyday that a girl would assault a Hunter. Their proximity didn't help either, and that was how Aaren found himself in a full Nelson, Gina fighting to drag him into the water.

"Just wait a sec!" He frantically snapped, trying to thrash out of her grip… what the hell was this?_!_ Her death grip must've been some kind of gift from the gods! It was impossible to throw her off of him, especially since he didn't want to hurt her. _Actually, you're probably irritating her ribs with all this struggling_, a nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him.

All the while, though, a deep panic was creeping up to the forefront of his consciousness. He did _not_ want to get into the tub; he wanted to get the hell away from that water, and _fast_.

They slammed into the tub, some of the water splashing out from the impact. Aaren felt the wetness on his bare skin, and froze up, heart suddenly hammering in his throat. The water was too close too close **too close**. He began to push back harder, desperate to get away from the water the tub the bathroom. _Please don't make me do this I'm not going to do this screw you I don't want to die if I get in that water I'm going to drown I'll drown I'll drown I'll drown __**no**_.

With the effort he put in though, Gina pushed back just as hard, as freakishly impressive as that was. And as he tried to step forward, his foot slipped upon stepping in one of the fresh puddles on the floor. With Gina still pushing against him with all her weight, the sudden loss of footing toppled them over into the tub with a loud, messy splash.

He was back in the river again.

He didn't understand why the water was warm this time around, and he didn't care. All that mattered was getting **out**. Thrashing, he tried to force his arms and legs to move, tried to swim, doggy paddle, _anything_, but his limbs felt like lead weights.

The green-black murkiness was swallowing him whole and he couldn't breathe he couldn't move where was Gina why wasn't she pinning his arms anymore oh gods no she'd lost grip of him he wasn't getting out he _couldn't_ get out he was going to die going to die _please don't let me die PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_

A voice, loud and clear, suddenly rang in his ears. "AAREN!"

There was light, once again. There was water all over the off-white tiles. Gina, who was somehow tangled with him, was a sopping wet mess. The overhead florescent was obnoxiously bright, and it slightly hurt his eyes as he stared into it, reality dawning upon him.

They were in the hotel bathroom.

"Calm down," Gina's voice, steady and calm, reached his ears, and he sought to grab hold of that anchor, something to ground himself, to avoid another panic attack. "What do you see?"

Well, aside from the mess they had made on the floor, nothing had changed, aside from their relocation to tub, and the water… he stiffened, heart starting to race again.

"Aaren, look at me," Gina demanded. He immediately complied. Her brown gaze was unwaveringly composed and she held his eyes with hers almost relentlessly. _Focus only on me_, he could almost hear her saying.

"You're not drowning."

Her provided epiphany was almost mind-blowing. But, as he slowly broke his gaze with her and surveyed himself – sitting in a bathtub, not sinking, not underwater – he quickly realized it. No, he _wasn't_ drowning. Even though he was in water, he was safe. Gina was with him. He was safe.

The rest of his bath went by uneventfully. Gina thoroughly and vigorously scrubbed away at his body and hair, and then pulled herself out of the tub, drawing the curtain shut. This had nearly incited another panic attack out of him – _no no no don't leave me alone in here please stay with me I don't want to drown I need you to pull me out of here stay with me please –_ before she spoke, voice gentle and reassuring.

"Wash your face and… _that_ area. I'll be right here on the other side of this in case you need me."

She even poked a hand through the curtain, to visually prove to him her presence was still there as he hastily scrubbed the dirt, sweat and grime off of his face and nether regions. Even if he wasn't drowning, he still didn't particularly _like _being in a tub full of water, especially after nearly dying just several days ago. But he was grateful that she was accommodating him for his apparent, newly discovered hydrophobia.

Truthfully, said random aversion to water was something he hadn't expected. He frequented the beaches at Ocean City often, or at least, he _used_ to. He could swim like a fish, but apparently the Infection changed that, which nearly killed him in the process. It was a good thing that Gina was around; he wouldn't have made it otherwise.

He made his thanks known once he'd finished, watching as Gina inspected his face and washed it a second time. Obviously he hadn't done a good job by _her_ standards. He shuddered nervously as she carefully and thoroughly rinsed him off before proceeding to allow him to escape the tub, tossing him a towel. There was a smile on her face, warmer that what he was used to, and he briefly wondered what was going through her mind to cause such an expression. It was something, he realized, that he wanted to see more of. It was a pleasant light to her eyes, normally clouded by fatigue and anxiety.

"It's no problem," she replied, grin turning playful as she continued with "I _desperately_ need to shower, so shoo."

Chuckling, he complied, leaving the door open a little and instructing her to shout if she needed him. Of course, it wasn't like he was expecting her to have any problems, but in the present apocalyptic setting the eastern United States had found itself in during the past several weeks, Aaren had learned that anything really _could_ happen, both good and bad.

The sound of the running water from the shower was soothing. Coupled with the steam drifting through the cracked-open door, the room had a calming, comforting feel to it. For the first time in months, Aaren's painfully tense shoulders relaxed. He could finally take a breath, after all of the fighting and running and killing.

So, he mulled over his thoughts. It had been a couple of weeks since he and Gina began on their journey together. Truthfully, however, he'd been tailing her and her group for a week before that, trying to help them from the shadows as best he could, but knowing that if he exposed himself, more likely than not he would've been attacked. It'd been like that since he turned.

The day it'd become clear to his family that Aaren had changed, his father had come at him with a shotgun, completely blind to Aaren's attempts at expressing docility – _Dad I'm fine I swear I won't hurt you please __**listen to me**__!_ His sister, cowering in the far corner of their trashed kitchen, was screaming _something_; he wasn't sure if she was trying to stop their father or encourage him.

Somehow, Aaren had managed, barely, to avoid the bullet spray that surely would've shredded his chest to oblivion. And he ran, faster than he ever had before in his entire life. Soon the running turned to leaping, and although he hated the transformation his body had undergone, he couldn't help but admit the ease he'd felt at the time, springing from rooftop to rooftop.

It'd felt like hours and hours before he felt safe enough to stop, and the only thing he could do at that point was find some kind of shelter, terrified at what'd happened and the sudden uncertainty of his future. Just what was wrong with him? What was going on? Why were people getting sick and changing? Why'd it have to happen to him too? Why'd his father not see that he was harmless? That he hadn't turned out the way Mom turned out?

Was he going to _die_ out here? Alone?

Since that fateful day, he'd tried to find people, signs of life, _something_. But he found nothing but death and pestilence. He watched as those who had been infected die slowly, painfully, and it terrified him, kept him awake for many a night as he anxiously wondered if the same fate would befall him as well. Suffer from pain and insanity, alone with no one by his side until the illness finally sapped his life to nothing, leaving his body to fester and rot like a piece of discarded trash.

The near-crippling loneliness had all but consumed him as the weeks went by, along with the fear that he really _would_ die alone. The survivors he'd try to approach had reacted the same way his father had – by aiming and pulling the trigger. Victims of the Green Flu were so far gone that they either hardly acknowledged his existence, or viewed him as some kind of threat. Other times, as he aimlessly wandered the terrain, he was ambushed and had to struggle, at times almost desperately, for his life. Hunters who'd claimed chunks of land as their territory were completely merciless. To them, trespassing was a penalty punishable only by death.

He didn't know how many he'd killed. He stopped counting a long time ago. It didn't even matter anymore, his guilt having ceased eating away at him a long way back. The only thing that Aaren had carried with him was the pain from being alone.

That all changed when he found Gina.

He still didn't understand why, unlike all the others before her, she'd hesitated as he slowly tried to approach her on the dock that morning. Her gun, held in a steady grip, aimed with an unwavering gaze at his head… there was no way he would've been able to dodge a bullet from her pistol. She could've killed him with no trouble, without a second thought, and gone on with her life.

And yet… she paused. It was enough of a pause for her to realize he was the Hunter who'd been helping her out. And that pause saved _his_ life.

She probably had no idea just how much her presence alone had done for him, for his sanity. Gina was the anchor he'd been frantically searching for, a reason, a purpose to fight whatever the hell this virus was, to keep _living_. The emptiness, the solitude, the misery, she had driven away just by _being_.

And, selfishly, he didn't really want her to catch up to her friends. Because then she would leave, and then he would be alone, and if he was alone again, he really didn't know what he'd do with himself aside from just giving up, finding some hole or something to crawl in, and dying. As long as she was around, he would have a reason to be around as well – to look out for her and make sure she was okay.

The steady noise from the shower abruptly stopped, and Aaren was suddenly acutely aware of the water droplets falling from the faucet to the porcelain surface of the tub, echoing off the linoleum floor and walls. There were a few minutes of quiet rustling – Gina getting dressed, he figured – before the door opened, steam billowing out into the hotel room. The young woman was toweling her hair, dressed in a new zip-up hoodie and sweatpants similar to the ones she'd found for him, stating that they would be more comfortable to sleep in compared to the jeans she'd also grabbed from Wal-Mart.

Letting out a sigh, Gina sat down next to him as he leaned against the foot of the bed. He could feel her body heat radiating to his shoulder as hers rested inches away. Her body language came across as languid, calm. But Aaren knew better. There was still a hint of _something_ in her eyes. She was brooding; over what, he didn't know. Nothing significant had happened since his near-death experience in the Mississippi.

No, that wasn't right… _something _had happened at the store. She'd froze; her eyes were wide in horror, though it wasn't directed towards any outside threat. At least, that was the conclusion he'd come to after doing a thorough visual sweep of the area. Aside from the two of them, Wal-mart had been completely abandoned.

That still didn't tell him _what_ it was, exactly, that seemed to be deeply affecting her.

They sat there next to each other in silence for a long moment. It was hard to tell whether it was a comfortable silence or a heavy one. Aaren settled for watching the light on the wall flicker as the nearby lamp slowly started to die.

He wouldn't break the silence; pushing for answers never got anything done. Rather, it caused the person in question to close up within themselves, putting up all sorts of walls and barriers to hide whatever it was that was going through their mind. He knew that when Gina was ready, she would speak up. So until then, he would wait. Patience was a skill he had to master after becoming a Hunter; waiting for the opportune moment to emerge from a hiding spot, to attack an enemy, or to approach a survivor.

Surprisingly, he didn't wait all that long.

"Hey…" her voice was quiet and uncharacteristically hesitant, and it almost unnerved him. It was almost as if he was hearing someone else entirely. "Is it right to do what we've been doing?"

At first, the question seemed too vague to fathom what she was talking about. After a moment though, it all became very clear. She was feeling guilt. He knew – he'd been there. It was the kind of thing that would implode a person if they bottled it up and tried to ignore it.

He turned, glancing at her steadily. There was a slightly questioning glance in her brown eyes, which disappeared once he spoke. "There's no right and wrong in survival," he paused for a moment, letting her think about his words. "You do what you have to."

She looked unsure. He didn't blame her; it'd taken him a long time to come to terms with everything that'd happened and everything that he'd done. And he had to fight through those feelings alone.

So, to give further comfort, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and gently tugged her closer, leaning her against him in a simple hug. She didn't flinch away or stiffen, only glancing at him quizzically. "It's hard," he continued, "But there are no rules."

Understanding, her gaze fell for a moment before averting to the flickering lamp. "Kill, or be killed, huh?" she quietly remarked, her voice slightly bitter. He could feel her guilt rolling off of her in waves. He pulled her closer, tightening his embrace, but not speaking any words. No words needed to be spoken, not aloud.

_Share your burden with me. It's hellish trying to go through it alone_._ I'm here for you, trust me._

They sat in silence, no tension between them. Rather, they reveled in each other's sorrow, comforting each other with their actions, their presence, instead of words. They sympathized which each other, after all. Surviving was hard. Surviving alone was nearly unbearable.

Finding the will to go on against such impossible odds never got any easier. The hopelessness was a burden that grew heavier with each passing day. It was a mutual understanding that the two of them were holding each other up at this point. They were all they had.

Slowly, he felt the tension dissipate from Gina's body as she gradually relaxed. He didn't realize she had fallen asleep until he felt her chest rise and fall more slowly, more deeply. Carefully, he glanced over at her, almost taken aback at how _peaceful_ she looked. It was a stark difference from the anxiousness and calculating concentration that he saw as her expression nearly every waking moment of the day.

The lamp flickered again, and he glanced over in time to watch as the bulb dimmed further. His sudden movement caused Gina to shift, and he looked back at her as she settled, breaths evening out once more and he gave pause as he took in the sight of her.

The dimmed bulb, which cast a warm glow over the room, had an astounding effect on Gina's features. Her already warm-toned skin had taken on almost a golden hue in the light. Her lips were full and soft-looking… the Hunter found himself wondering what they'd feel like meshed against his own.

It was strange, being caught off-guard by the insight that Gina, for all of her toughness and everyday grimy appearance, was in reality a very feminine young woman. And the more he thought about it, the more Aaren realized that she was not only a feminine young woman; she was also a very attractive young woman.

The bandage on her cheek stood out starkly on her skin, and the Hunter's heart clenched. She had a pretty face… and _he_ was the one who marred it. How bad would the scar be? Hesitantly, he raised his free hand, reaching to stroke the skin around the gauze. Then the focus of his gaze shifted from her smooth skin to his own pale, clawed hand.

He wrenched it back abruptly from her face, the motion causing Gina to shift slightly, briefly furrowing her brows in her sleep, but he paid her no mind. He could only stare at his hand, gray skinned, nails the shape of talons… could they even _be_ called hands anymore? Could he even be called a _human_? This disgusting **mutation**… He was a freak.

He clenched his hand into a tight fist, arm quivering from the force of his contraction. The little pricks of pain in his palm didn't faze him. Would he always be like this? Forever?

He might as well have been handed a death sentence. He'd never find salvation - he'd be killed by a Survivor or another Infected if the disease didn't kill him first. He'd never be able to see his family again - were they even still alive? - and even if he _did_, they would shun him just as fast as they had the first time. And he probably wouldn't dodge the shotgun blast a second time.

Once he helped Gina to safety, he would spend the rest of his pitiful existence alone, hated, rejected.

What was the point in trying to hang on? He had no future. He had nothing.

Abruptly, his eyes stung relentlessly. His mutated hand blurred in his vision and a lump lodged itself in the back of his throat, causing him to nearly choke. Pressing a hand to his eyes, he felt warm trickle along his fingers as his chest tightened almost painfully. His turbulent emotions were suffocating him.

He pulled away from his friend, the motion causing her to stir and blearily open her eyes as he rushed over to the door. "Aaren...?" she groggily asked, and he could hear the curiosity and concern in her voice. _Don't be worried about __**me**__ of all people. I'm not worth it. Please just don't care anymore._

He left the bedroom without a word, closing the door behind him. He bustled out of the hotel room in the quiet hallway, and collapsed against the wall, shoulders shaking as he tried to fight back the sobs that wracked his body only to succumb to them in the end as he slid down to the floor and buried his face in his hands.

He didn't know how much further he could go on.

...

Something was wrong with Aaren, she was _sure of it_.

They had been walking through the empty streets of New Orleans for a couple of hours now, making their way towards the bridge. Aaren had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, almost standoffish in a way. And maybe it was just her, but it looked like he was brooding about something. But when she'd tried to ask him about it, he refused to talk about it, instead opting to brush it off with a quiet "It's nothing."

If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought the Hunter was angry with her. But at the same time, his behavior reminded her of her younger sister, who used to get snappish and distant when she was inwardly hurting. And it was painful to see that Aaren seemed to be in such a state, especially when she couldn't do anything about it.

So, she'd dropped the topic, only for the moment. She learned through experience that premature confrontation only resulted in fighting. Hopefully he would be willing to talk, eventually...

At any rate, the present challenge was more important. The evacuation center couldn't be too much farther. She could only hope there were still airlifts taking place, otherwise she didn't know _what_ she'd do.

Rounding a corner, her thoughts abruptly ceased as the sight that met her eyes caused Gina to freeze in her steps, completely shocked. A pile of bodies... several different piles of bodies - mounds really - were scattered around the immediate area. They rose taller than her, just corpse after corpse carelessly thrown on top of one another like discarded pieces of trash. As if these people weren't even worthy of a proper burial. But why?

The stench was terrible; Gina had to fight off the urge to retch with every fiber of her being. What the hell had **happened** here?

Amid her horror and nausea, however, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind. _Something's not right_. And as she took a step closer to the nearest pile, and another step, and another, she realized yes, something was off.

"Gina...? Hey, quit that!" Aaren grabbed her arm before she could finish pulling a body from the nearest pile. She glanced over at him, his gaze incredulous. "What the hell're you doing?!"

"These aren't Infected, Aaren," it almost weirded her out how self-assured she sounded, and she tugged free of his grasp and resumed pulling on the body she'd selected from the pile until she managed to wrench it free. "Just take a look at it!"

No matter how she looked at it, there wasn't any sign of the Infection. No change in skin color, no glowing eyes, no vomiting or black blood, nothing. "Aaren," she continued, "These are healthy people. They weren't Infected."

Aaren had come up next to her, scrutinizing the corpse. "They're all like this...?" he asked. It took her a moment to try and survey each body she could, but she found no differences.

"Yea, I think so..." The Hunter hummed in response, falling silent for a long moment as Gina continued to look over the body she'd plucked. "No signs of infection... but look at these holes..."

She'd seen a lot of disturbing things since the beginning of the Infection, but for some reason, she couldn't shake what she was seeing. Because she couldn't help but wonder if maybe the holes were bullet holes. But if that were the case, with all these seemingly healthy people, what would lead whomever to shoot them and leave them in piles like some kind of mass slaughter? Just the way things were left, it portrayed organization, in a way. Mass-executions...

Did it have something to do with all of the hateful messages she'd begun to see in the safe houses they camped out at? "Kill all Carriers!" and other similar phrases were a common occurrence out here. Gina's medical education had taught her that a carrier was a person who carried the virus, but wasn't infected by it. Was **that** what had been meant in those graffiti messages? If that was the case...

"Gina, hey..." Aaren's voice drifted into her subconscious, and she turned to glance at him. He blinked, almost looking taken aback, probably in response to the look on her face.

"They were _killing carriers_, Aaren," she whispered, and she roughly ran her hands through her hair, palms pressing into her temples, trying to somehow slow her suddenly racing thoughts, "I don't know why, but they were... maybe it was risk of transmission? But how, I haven't heard anything about them figuring out the means of transmission and yet they were just killing people left and right did they even know whether or not they were carriers...?!"

"Calm down!" Aaren's hands were grasping her shoulders, squeezing them gently. He was likely trying to comfort her. A part of her felt bad for her outburst, but the growing panic was very quickly overriding that.

"What if _I'm_ a carrier, though?" her voice quickly rose in volume, "I'd make it to a safe point, only to get shot!"

Aaren started trying to reason with her. "You might not be a carrier though-..."

Gina wasn't having any of that though. There were _so many bodies_. If she had to guess, this virus was the kind of virus that _no_ immune system could create antibodies for. You would either end up a carrier or an Infected. No one was safe from it.

"I'm not going to the evac site. I'm staying out here with you."

Aaren looked momentarily stunned at her words. But then his gaze hardened. "Gina, you aren't safe out here."

"Well I'm not safe in there either!" she snapped, "At least I know you won't kill me for having the virus!"

A loud, thunderous boom startled the duo into silence, the argument completely forgotten in that instant.

"That wasn't an explosion..." Gina couldn't help but speak at a rushed pace as she glanced around through narrowed eyes, trying to find the source of the sound. That noise was a sign of something _other_ than Infected. What if it were her friends? She glanced back at Aaren just as he simultaneously did the same. "That wasn't an explosion Aaren - what the heck was that?"

"It sounded like some big metal thing-..." Abruptly a collective roar arose from all around them. Instinctively, they shifted closer together, Aaren crouching and growling as he scanned the area, and Gina pulling out her pistols.

It was the sound of the Horde. And never before had it sounded so loud. It sounded like the number of Infected rose well into the _hundreds_, and that sound had simultaneously provoked all of them.

Aaren's sudden grip on her arm startled her, but she didn't have time to do so much as yelp before he was pulling her into a dead sprint. "There's too many of them," his voice held more than enough urgency to get the message across, "We need to hide, **now**."

They tore down the street, Gina following as best as she could. She had always prided herself on keeping up with the guys on the soccer pitch, but it was all she could do to keep up with the Hunter as he led the way. Abruptly, he veered right, and she nearly lost her balance from the sudden change in direction. If he hadn't been holding on to her, she was certain she would've fallen face-first into the pavement. She quickly realized that they were running towards a storefront, the front window shattered and leading the way into a darkened room. It wasn't exactly closed off from the Infected, but so long as they remained quiet, they wouldn't see them, right?

They hopped through the window, and Aaren all but wrenched her into the adjacent corner. Her back slammed into the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of her. As it was, the impact jarred her still tender ribs, and she let out a pained moan, although that was very quickly muffled by Aaren's body as he moved even closer to her, shielding her from the outside like a protective cocoon.

It amazed her that their bodies weren't completely flush against one another; Aaren's arms braced against the wall on either side of her, their chests mere inches apart. Their pants mixed and mingled in the air around them as the noise grew outside. But for now, they were safe.

Somehow, he managed to lean in even closer - there was still that much space between them? "Stay quiet."

He hadn't needed to tell her that, or so she thought. But his voice alone was helping her calm down from what she realized was the brink of a panic attack. So, she heeded his words and focused on her breathing.

That was her original intention, but at the minutes ticked by, she found her mind wandering, very quickly, into wholly inappropriate areas for the current situation. No matter how hard she tried though, she couldn't stop herself. Not with their proximity; the only thing separating them was their body heat. And that thought alone caused a new kind of heat to grow within her, one that dropped down her navel and settled into a smoldering throbbing between her legs. Especially once her mind's eye re-conjured images of Aaren's muscular torso, his thick, strong thigh muscles, slicked with bathwater, the lump her stomach rested on after they'd fallen into the tub, and then imagined the kinds of things that would've happened if she'd been in a different, more erotic mindset...

Her breath hitched, and she _knew_ Aaren had heard it, like she was certain he could probably hear her heart pounding in her chest as her breathing grew heavier, erratic.

"Hey..."

Aaren's voice was different, breathier, _lower_, and the change in tone only fueled her abrupt arousal. She could see his eyes from her vantage point, and they held a heated glow that nearly took her breath away. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she could feel the space between them closing as he leaned his chest against hers. The contact caused her to gasp, tilting her head back and meeting his gaze fully.

And then his head was slowly dipping towards her, hot puffs of air caressing her face as he drew closer, tickling her ear, skirting just past her jawbone and causing her to shiver. If she tilted her head just a little bit, she'd be able to brush her lips against his and...

Aaren paused abruptly, blinked as clarity and focus came over his expression, and he began to pull away and it was all she could do to bite back the whimper that bubbled up her throat. She watched as her turned his head, listening to something, and slowly she came down from her lust-fueled high. _What? What is he...?_

And then she heard it too; the sounds of gunfire.

Gunfire meant people.

_Focus, Gina. There's a time and place for __**that**__ kind of thing_. She glanced at Aaren. "That sound earlier..." she felt her ears heat up as she heard how breathless her voice sounded, and she could've cringed in embarrassment, "That metal sound... isn't the bridge really close to here?"

A moment passed as they stared at each other before realization crossed Aaren's expression and he muttered curses under his breath. "That bridge is a drawbridge I bet," he replied, pausing and glancing back out at the passing Infected, "They're crossing the bridge."

Which could only mean that, across the bridge, there was safety - a way out.

While one part of her was elated that she had a chance to catch up to Ellis and the others, another part of her inwardly screamed in protest. Finally reuniting with her group of Survivors was great, but she would be leaving Aaren behind. Aaren, who had looked out for her and protected her more than anyone she'd come across thus far. What would happen to him?

"We need to go," Aaren was looking out the window, oblivious to her inner-conflict, "If you use your knife as we go... we should be able to make it."

Her words left her mouth before Gina could think to stop them. "What about you?"

Aaren glanced back over at her, eyes slightly wide - that same stunned look she'd seen earlier. His gaze softened, tainted by a bitterness that she didn't want to see there. "Don't worry about me," he gently reassured her, reaching around her back, drawing her hunting knife, and placing the handle in her hand, "As long as you're safe, I'll be fine."

No, he wouldn't be fine. Just like she wouldn't be fine. There was no safer place for her than next to him, she was officially convinced of this. But before she could voice these thoughts aloud, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her forward. "We're going!"

The following moments were a blur to her. The sunlight dazzled her at first coming out of the store, but it was only an instant later that she was slashing through the throat of an Infected, driving her elbow into the skull of another simultaneously as she sprinted down the street. She spun and wove around as many as she could, not wanting to be slowed down by fighting. She knew, however, that as she hurdled towards the highway and the bridge, Aaren was right by her side.

Instincts took over as her adrenaline kicked. Shove one to the right, slash at one to her left, duck under a swinging arm and vault over an abandoned car. As they rounded a corner, the highway on-ramp in view, and the river just beyond that, Gina grabbed her pipe bomb, throwing it in some random direction as hard as she could. Skirting under the on-ramp, they quickly discovered a barbed-wire fence beyond that, separating them from the river. Beneath the highway, at the foot of the bridge, was a maintenance room that appeared to extended to the surface of the bridge itself. From her vantage point however, she could see the swarms of Infected charging along the bridge.

Coming up into the thick of that was practically suicide. There had to be a safer way to get to, or even across, the bridge. Maybe the fence...

Gina hurried back over to the fence, and began frantically searching for a way to get around, to try and maybe find a way to climb up onto the bridge directly. There were no gaps she could squeeze through, no holes to crawl under, and the barbed wire somehow was unscathed after all these weeks of pure chaos. She was starting to think that she had no way over when Aaren tugged at her arm. Turning around, she found him indicating his back. "Hop on! I can make that jump-...!"

A roar from overhead cut off Aaren's sentence. Two fighter jets screamed passed them, towards the bridge. Why were they here? As she turned back to the fence, a thought crossed Gina's mind just as a pit of dread settled into her stomach. There was only one reason for the fighter jets to be here, and one reason alone: firepower. And in that moment, it all became very clear to her.

"No..." She shook her head, gripping the fence tightly as she watched on in horror, "NO!"

In the far distance, on the other side of the river, a helicopter was lifting off into the air. She could only hope that inside of it were her friends. Just as it flew away, the fighter jets made another pass through, this time firing missiles at the bridge, which went up in a colossal inferno.

Slowly, she sank to her knees. Whether or not she was conflicted about leaving for the safe zone didn't matter. That was the last known evacuation center in the country. There was no other way out.

The fighter jets flew over them, and at first, she didn't process why. They had no reason to turn back inland; likely they had originally deployed from an aircraft carrier at sea in the first place, so why...

Seconds later, the ground beneath them rocked as a building nearby exploded.

If she'd been standing, Gina was sure she would've been knocked off her feet. Before she could orient herself, however, another building exploded, and then another. The military was bombing what was left of New Orleans, not caring if there were stragglers or not.

Screaming, she hunched over, trying to cover her head with her hands. The whole world was coming down around her it was actually the end of the world oh god was she going to die right here and now _oh god no I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die please someone help me-..._

"GINA!" A hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her up. Aaren's eyes held the same fear she felt, and she wondered if this would be the last expression she'd ever see on him.

"COME ON!" He dragged her into a sprint, head back the way they came. Only this time, he was dead set on the on-ramp, and they hurriedly squeezed underneath it.

Gina curled into a ball, pressing herself as close to the cement as she could. It was as if they were trapped in a war zone; the noise was deafening, the heat scalding. This really was the end. There was no way they were going to survive this.

She barely processed when Aaren wrapped his arms around her tightly, just as a missile impacted the on-ramp above them. He pulled her close as slabs of charred concrete fell around them. The chaos reached a crescendo, and somehow her voice came over that, screaming Aaren's name.

And then, there was nothing.

* * *

**A/N: OMG YOU GUYS I AM SO SORRY.**

**No I haven't abandoned this story, I swear to you. The past year and change has been insane. Spring semester last year was hellish, I moved across the country, and now I just finished up my first year at GRAD SCHOOL! Also, I was having some serious difficulty with the second and third scenes, but yays I finally figured it out! Many thanks to my sister and De Mam who both helped me with plot/character development and grammar/spelling crap.**

**Now, I have a SLIGHT problem. Just a slight problem. And that is, I'm not quite sure what I want to have happen. It all really depends on how hurt people are (because come on, a freaking highway just buried them), and how far forward I want to jump in time. I have a couple of possible ideas in mind, but I just need to really think about it.**

**To make up for the fact that I took so long, I'll have you know that this chapter is the longest one I've written yet for this story. 18 pages. So I hope you guys aren't too mad at me! Thank you for being patient (unless you gave up waiting for this chapter, in which case I'm super sorry for that), and now that I have a bit more free time, I'm going to seriously work on outlining the next several chapters and figuring out what's going to happen next.**

**I love you guys! -G**


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